


Born of Magic

by Destiny and Chicken (Destiny_and_Chicken)



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Canon Era, Explicit Sexual Content, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magic Revealed, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-24
Updated: 2013-09-07
Packaged: 2017-12-15 23:24:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 33,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/855178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Destiny_and_Chicken/pseuds/Destiny%20and%20Chicken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur suffers yet another blow to the head, but this one causes amnesia.  He and Merlin are quarantined to Arthur’s chambers in an attempt to avoid revealing the amnesia to Uther. Once Arthur is cured by Merlin’s magic, strange incidents begin to occur.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Set between seasons 2 and 3 when Morgana is missing.
> 
> Thank you to the awesome queasy_mouse on Live Journal for the beta.
> 
> I made use of the web site http://www.oldenglishtranslator.co.uk/ for help with the Old English spells. Since my understanding of language tenses is quite sketchy, I can only say what I think these phrases mean or were meant to convey. If you can correct me, please do PM me on Live Journal at Destiny_Chicken.
> 
> The ASCII art used as a scene separator was generated at the website http://www.webestools.com/stylish-text-generator-nickname-message-msn-facebook-windows-live-messenger-text-accents-effect-ascii-text.html

[](http://imgur.com/kpLplEF)

“And just who are you?”

Merlin wasn’t sure he heard that correctly, despite his large ears.  “What?”

“Who are you?” Arthur repeated.

“That blow to the head must have been even worse than I thought,“ Merlin muttered. He knelt over Arthur’s position on the rocky ground, and looked into the Prince’s stunning blue eyes. He could see the pupils were unequal in size—a sure indicator of a head injury.

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Arthur Pendragon had had more than his fair share of blows to head and resulting bouts of unconsciousness.  It rather came with the territory of being the Crown Prince of Camelot. Whether it was by bandits, skeleton warriors, or a magical beast, Arthur managed to get whacked on the head at a somewhat steady rate.  Usually the after effects were minimal:  a few minutes of unconsciousness and a longer-lasting headache.  This time looked to be different.

The stress of the pressures of Court politics and the duties increasingly being placed on Arthur’s shoulders were beginning to take a toll on him.  He had been beyond grouchy the past few weeks – never smiling, not sleeping well, picking at his food, and throwing things even more frequently than usual. Unfortunately, it was Merlin who was most acquainted with Arthur’s moods, and this meant he bore the shouting, the flying objects and extra work assignments. So it was Merlin who was actually most pleased when Arthur strode into his own chambers the day before his latest incident, shouting: “MER-lin, pack for a hunt tomorrow. We’ll leave at dawn.”

“How long will we be gone? Will the knights be coming?” Merlin asked, as he concentrated on the mental calculations of number of people going times the number of days times the amount of supplies needed. 

“I told Father it would be a few days at least.  And it is just you and me. The knights are still on patrol searching for Morgana.”

That meant this trip really wasn’t about the hunting at all.  Arthur was just trying to get some time away from his duties and no doubt, away from Uther Pendragon.  The father-son relationship was complicated and it, too, added to Arthur’s burdens.  Merlin did believe that Uther loved his only son and heir, but he certainly did not demonstrate that love to Arthur.  Arthur always seemed to feel himself left wanting when measured in Uther’s eyes.  Most recently, there had been some drawn-out arguments between the two in front of the Council over the upcoming tax collection. Arthur truly loved his people and was a compassionate man.  He often spoke out to reject higher taxes when the poorer families would be unable to pay and would starve. Angered at the public challenge from Arthur in front of the Council, Uther then, almost vindictively, proceeded to schedule visits to Camelot of potential brides for Arthur.  The King knew that a political marriage was a sore subject for his son.

So Merlin stuffed the packs, organized the food, and readied the horses so the two of them could leave at dawn that morning.  Other than the brace of hares caught this morning for dinner tonight, Arthur had not done any hunting so far.  It was just two friends (although Arthur would not admit that out loud) amiably sharing a journey to nowhere.  Already Arthur was more relaxed, with the furrows in his brow (formerly in danger of becoming permanent residents) easing as the day passed companionably. 

As the sun had reached its highest point and had begun its descent to the horizon, Arthur directed their route southward.  When they came across a broad swath of shale fragments that had accumulated against the rise ahead of them, they dismounted to lead their horses up the slope.  Almost at the top, Arthur had turned back to Merlin to make a sharp retort to whatever challenge Merlin had just thrown Arthur’s way.  Merlin realized later, with more than a twinge of guilt, that it was his fault.  Because of his verbal jab, Arthur was not watching his footing on the loose rocks.

He lost his balance, fell to the talus, and his momentum carried him down the steep slope, sliding and tumbling.  Luckily he had dropped the reins at once, so his horse was not sliding down the incline right behind him, possibly to land upon him.  As Arthur’s body came to rest near the base of the slope, face down, it remained still. Merlin, with his heart hammering loudly, scrambled back down the shale, managing to slide down mostly on his arse.  As he skittered to a stop near Arthur, he breathlessly called out, “Arthur, are you alright?”  Arthur remained motionless and unresponsive.

Merlin knelt at his side and turned Arthur over.  There were scratches and abrasions on his face, and he felt carefully around Arthur’s head. No broken skull but there was a cut bleeding in his hair and Merlin could sense the knot rising in Arthur’s scalp as he gently probed.  He looked Arthur’s body over as well and found no broken bones, only scrapes and cuts--the most serious of those a severe abrasion on his jaw—besides the head injuries. His own heart began to slow to a normal beat, now seeing that Arthur’s condition was not as serious as it first appeared.

Merlin glanced up the incline and confirmed the well-trained horses were still in sight.  He headed back up the slope towards them, watching his steps cautiously.  At the top, he secured the horses to the scrub and removed their packs and supplies.

When he returned to Arthur with the supplies, over ten minutes had passed, and the prince still was unconscious.  This was long enough to be troubling.  “Arthur, wake up.  C'mon you dollophead, time to get up!”  He shook Arthur’s shoulder slightly, and was rewarded with a low moan. 

A little firmer shake and he heard, “Mmmm…wha’ happen’d?”

“You fell. And hit your head. Again.”

“Yeah…it hurts.” At that statement, Arthur rolled to his side and retched whatever he had eaten that day.  Once the heaving stopped, Merlin helped him roll back away from the pool of vomit, and allowed Arthur a few swigs of water from the skin. Settling down on his back, Arthur flung his arm over his eyes, and grumbled, “’S’too bright.”

As usual, Merlin carried emergency medical supplies in his pack: bandages, salves, herbs, and a pain-reducing potion.  He reached for the potent green liquid.  “Here, drink half of this. It’s another one of Gaius’ vile medicines that should relieve the pain a bit.” He helped Arthur sit up slightly once more, and he dutifully downed the liquid before returning to his back. 

As usual, Arthur pulled a face in response to the awful taste, “What is that stuff? It tastes horrible.”

“Just another of Gaius’ specialties.”

“Who is Gaius?  And just who are you? ” Arthur said, with a puzzled look at Merlin.

“What?”

“Who are you? And why are there two of you?” Arthur repeated, as he pinched the bridge of his nose to contain the pounding in his head, since the pain potion had not yet taken affect.

“Arthur, don’t you know who I am?” Merlin asked incredulously, looking directly at Arthur’s face.

“So my name is Arthur, is it?” His expression showed this was no joke.

Oh shite.  At some point in Merlin’s limited medical education, Gaius had mentioned that amnesia was a possible reaction to head injuries, but Merlin never thought he’d have to deal with it by himself.  The unconsciousness, the unequal pupil size, the double vision, and aversion to bright light all said ‘concussion.’  However, amnesia on top of that meant this was serious.  Worse than just not knowing who Merlin was, evidently Arthur did not know who he was himself.  Merlin swallowed hard and tried to steady himself with a familiar task of tending to Arthur’s injuries.  He started by applying a salve to the abrasion on Arthur’s jaw.

“Well, my name is Merlin, and yes, yours is Arthur, Arthur Pendragon.”  Arthur looked intently at the two Merlins. No sign of recognition flickered in Arthur’s face.  Merlin continued, “I’m sure this is just a temporary side effect of the injury to your head.  Just like the double vision. You’re going to have quite a lump on the back of your skull there. Can you sit up so I can bandage the cut in your scalp?“  Merlin offered his hand to pull Arthur to a seated position.  Arthur wavered a bit, so Merlin scooted around so he could sit behind Arthur and support him as he wrapped his head with the bandage. 

Merlin hoped he sounded more confident than he was, as he could sense Arthur was on the edge of panicking, as he came to realise his memories were not there. His breathing was ragged and his face very pale.   “I am the ward of the Court Physician of Camelot, Gaius, and help him out sometimes, so I do have some medical knowledge,” Merlin offered as reassurance to his patient, despite the fact he had no experience with amnesia victims and couldn’t even recall if Gaius had ever described any treatments.

Arthur breathed deeply, trying to steady himself. He shook his head to clear his vision, but regretted it immediately as his head pounded more fiercely. He cleared his throat so his voice was firmer. “So, what are we doing here? Maybe if you tell me I’ll begin to remember.”

“Well, we are on a hunting trip.”

“Just the two of us?  What are we hunting?”

“Nothing really, although you did get two rabbits this morning we’ll have for dinner tonight.”

“Just two of us on a hunting trip where we are not hunting anything.  Well, I guess why bother to bring along a whole hunt party with dogs and beaters if you really aren’t hunting…” Arthur still looked confused, and narrowed his eyes as he looked at Merlin.

Merlin asked tentatively, “Do you know who you are, I mean, who your father is?”

“I told you I didn’t know my name, and no, I don’t know my father’s name either,” Arthur replied peevishly. “Why, is he well-known?”

Merlin snorted. “Yeah, a bit.  He’s King Uther Pendragon of Camelot.” He waited for the reaction.

All the response he saw was Arthur’s brows knit together and his teeth began to worry his bottom lip.  He spoke slowly, ‘So that means I have a title? I am a prince?”

“Crown Prince actually.  Heir to the throne and all. ” Merlin stated. Arthur said nothing further for a bit, concentrating on remembering something, anything.  Sighing deeply when nothing came to his mind, he continued his questioning, hoping to hit upon a topic of which he had some memory. “So who are you then, Merlin?”

It occurred to Merlin, that without Arthur’s memories to define their relationship, Merlin could say the truth.  “I am your friend, your best friend.”

“Hmm. Nothing is coming back to me.” He studied Merlin’s face.

“We’ve known each other about two-and-a-half years. I protect you from danger, so you can fulfill your destiny and become the greatest King that Albion will ever know.”

Arthur snorted.  “Protect me?  I don’t think so.” He pointedly looked at Merlin, then at himself, and then at Merlin again.” I don’t think you could protect me from anything bigger than a gnat, as you aren’t the bodyguard type.  I, on the other hand, am perfectly capable of protecting myself, and you as well, for that matter. I’ve been trained to kill since birth…” his voice trailing off as he realized what he said.  “Now how did I know that? “

“I guess being a prat is so ingrained, you still remember that.  I’ll have you know I have saved your life several times already. You fail to recognize the skills and talents I have.”

“Ri-i-ight.” Arthur rolled his eyes, unconvinced.  “What else do you do besides be my bodyguard?”

“I clean your armour and keep it in good repair. I fetch your meals and serve you when you dine with the King or the Court.  I keep your chambers and clothing clean. “

“You’re not a bodyguard, you’re my manservant!” Arthur shouted triumphantly.

“You’re remembering now? Merlin asked hopefully.

“No, just piecing it together from your description.”  A frown crossed his face. “But a prince cannot be friends with his manservant.”

Merlin shut his eyes to hide his pain from Arthur over that last statement.  It hurt that Arthur did not acknowledge their friendship.  Arthur was his destiny, whether that was as a servant to his master, as equals and friends. Or even something more, that Merlin only dreamt of late at night alone in his bed.

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Merlin set about making camp not far from where Arthur came to a halt after his fall, while Arthur tried to rest.  He brought the horses down from the top of the hill, and placed stones in a circle to form the fire pit.  He set the rabbits to cooking over the fire on greenwood spits, and laid out two bedrolls near the fire.  Once he finished, he returned to Arthur’s side where the prince had been dozing.

Arthur was grimacing in pain even while he slept, tossing and turning.  Merlin woke him as gently as he could, but as Arthur opened his eyes, the brilliant blue darkened as he fought through the initial consciousness of the pain.

“Arthur, can you get up and walk over to the camp?  I’ve built a fire and it will be warmer.”

He took Merlin’s offered hand and levered himself upright. The dizziness had him wobbling for a bit, but with Merlin’s hands on his shoulders, he steadied, and began to walk over to the fire with a bit of limp. He dropped to the bedroll and sat with one leg stretched out straight in front of him, the other bent at the knee.

“What’s wrong with your leg? Why are you limping?” Merlin demanded, always anxious about Arthur’s condition when injured.

“S’nothing.” Arthur was evasive as always about any sign of weakness.

“Arthur.” Merlin warned.

The prince glared at Merlin, and muttered “Must have twisted my left knee in the fall.” Then changing the subject (he was deft at doing that), he asked, “How come you call me Arthur, not m’Lord or Sire or Your Highness?” 

Well, I call you Arthur because we are friends, despite what you think about the propriety of friendship between servant and master.  I try not to do so when we are around others, especially around your father.” 

“Why my father?”

“Well…I don’t think he likes me much, although he did ‘reward’ me by making me your servant for saving your life the first time.  I fail to see the reward in it, myself.” His teasing comment failed to elicit any other response from Arthur besides a blank look.

Arthur fell silent as he stared into the flames and the red-hot coals forming underneath them.  Merlin could see his weariness in his face and that the pain continued to plague him.  He suspected that the weariness was intensified by the loss of his memory and his fear of not knowing himself. 

Arthur’s hand plucked at the grasses by his bedroll, shredding them without even knowing what he was doing. Merlin filled the silence that hung over them, chattering, “Once it is daylight tomorrow, we’ll pack up and return to Camelot. We should make it there by mid-afternoon if we keep to a steady pace.   I want Gaius to look you over as soon as we get back.”

Merlin served up the charred rabbit and offered Arthur some bread and some dried fruit from the supplies they’d brought.  Merlin made a mental note that Arthur took only a few bites of the meat, and just toyed with the fruit.  He did drink from the water skin, however. 

“Do you want the last of the pain-relieving potion now or use it tomorrow when we’re travelling?”

Arthur considered.  “It makes you drowsy, doesn’t it?” Merlin nodded. “Then I’ll take it tonight.  I don’t want to fall asleep on the horse tomorrow and topple off.”

“It should help you get some better rest tonight then.”  The firelight danced flickering shadows across Arthur’s face as Merlin tried to assess his mental state.  He chanced asking what he suspected Arthur did not want to discuss, “Are you remembering anything, Arthur?”

Arthur spoke softly, as if he didn’t want to jinx any recovering memories by speaking too loudly. He rubbed at his temples and pinched the bridge of his nose in a futile attempt to get the headache under control.   “Nothing cohesive.  Just an occasional flash of a face or a place, and before I can recognize it, it’s gone.”

“You need to give it time.  Be patient.”

“Not one of my usual qualities.” Arthur startled at what he said.  “How did I know that?”

With a smile, Merlin said, “Not too hard to see you’re a man of action, Arthur.” He handed Arthur the last of the pain-relieving potion, and the prince downed it.  Both men turned to their bedrolls and settled in to sleep as best they could through the night.

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	2. Chapter 2

The next day seemed longer that it should to Merlin. He was anxious to get Arthur back to Camelot so Gaius could assess his lack of memories and advise what should be done. But he knew he couldn’t force the pace to quicken because Arthur’s pain meant he could only tolerate trotting the horses for short periods of time. Finally as the sun was sinking behind the trees, and the sky turning a dusty pink, they could see the flags on the spires of Camelot’s citadel.

Merlin had already decided they needed to enter the castle courtyard quietly and as unobserved as possible, and then get to the physician’s chambers immediately. In the courtyard, Arthur swung out of the saddle, but had to cling to the stirrup leathers to steady himself when he reached the ground. Merlin dismounted, and turned his horse over to the stable boy. He hovered near Arthur and said quietly, “Do you need a hand?”

With a deep inhale and exhale, Arthur replied, “No. I can manage.” And manage he did, putting on a good front up the stairs and the through the gallery. However, once they turned a corner and were out of the public eye, he sagged. “Careful there. I’ve got you,” Merlin said as he put Arthur’s arm over his shoulder, and slid his own arm around Arthur’s waist to support him. Arthur’s head dipped down, but he stayed upright with Merlin’s help and they made it to Gaius’ chambers.

“What’s happened?” Gaius barked as he moved forward quickly from his workbench to help Merlin manhandle Arthur to the patient’s bed in the main chamber.

“He fell down a hill and I think has a concussion. And he doesn’t remember who he is or who I am.”

“Oh dear.” The physician looked at his royal patient closely, seeing a tired Arthur, with cuts and abrasions on his face and deep furrows in his brow. His expression spoke of pain and weariness and, unusually, a trace of fear. “Sire, try to focus on me. Follow my finger with your eyes.” Gaius held up his index finger, and slowly moved it left then right. Up then down. He then used his magnifying lens and peered at Arthur’s eyes. Only then did he unwrap the bandage and probe gently at the back of the prince’s head. Arthur winced, “Oi, that hurts.”

“Sire, do you know who I am?”

Pointing at Merlin, Arthur offered, “He says you’re the court physician.”

“You have no memories of me of your own?” Arthur shook his head negatively. “And what is your name?”

“He says it is Arthur Pendragon, and I am the Crown Prince of Camelot. And before you ask, no, I don’t know because I remember. It is just what he has told me.”

“Hmm.” Gaius puzzled. “Were there any other serious injuries from the fall?”

Arthur rubbed his abraded jaw. “This is the worst of the others. Just scrapes and bruises, a nasty headache and overall muscle aches. And I seem to be unnaturally tired and not interested in eating anything.”

“Alright, Arthur, just lie back and rest a bit while I look through my medications and speak with Merlin.”

 

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Gaius inclined his head toward Merlin’s bedroom, and Merlin headed up the stairs with Gaius close behind. Once the door was closed, Gaius asked, with his voice low and slightly accusing, “What’s going on, Merlin? Did some spell you cast go wrong?”

“No!” Merlin protested vehemently.

“Keep your voice down!” Gaius commanded without raising his own voice.

Merlin whispered, “I didn’t do magic on Arthur. “ He shivered at the thought of it—to put Arthur under a spell would be entirely too close to Arthur knowing about his magic. “It really was a fall and a knock on the head.

“Very well. Certainly it is not unusual for amnesia to result from a blow to the head, but it is not common for it to have been so extensive or to have lasted so long. Has it been a full day since he was injured?”

Merlin frowned in concentration, “A bit more than that, it happened yesterday, about an hour or two after mid-day.”

“Definitely not the norm. Can you sense if any magic has been done to Arthur by someone else?”

“No, I thought of that too, but there is no trace of another’s magic in him that I can feel.” Merlin began pacing back and forth in the small room in his frustration.

“Alright, I’ll consider it trauma-induced amnesia. There are only a few things I can try, other than easing the pain, so likely we’ll have to wait for Arthur’s memory to return on its own. He may never remember events that happened just before and after the fall. Stop that pacing, Merlin, there’s not enough space in here.”

Merlin just looked at Gaius, huffed and flopped on his narrow bed. “I’d settle just for him to know he’s Arthur, you’re Gaius and I’m Merlin.” Merlin said. Then a thought struck him and he sat upright. “Oh gods, what are we going to do about the King? He’ll be positive that sorcery is at the root of Arthur’s memory loss.”

Gaius’ brow furrowed deeper as he considered. “You’re right. Uther won’t accept this as a normal response to a head trauma. He’d be likely to increase the arrests of innocents in his hunt to find the sorcerer responsible. We’ll have to hide Arthur’s memory loss from him. How willing do you think Arthur is to hide the amnesia?”

“I think he would be willing—he is really pretty terrified at what’s happening, but of course, won’t admit that. But, hiding it from Uther, well, that will be a challenge. You know Arthur spends part of every day with his father, just the two of them. How can I help cover for him then? And I don’t know everything he and Uther have discussed in the past to tell him what to say.”

“We could probably cover a few days with an excuse of sickness, but that won’t last long. Uther will demand to see his son, even if we say it is a contagious disease,” Gaius offered. “We can't say it's a serious illness, because that could indicate a weakness in the rule of Camelot. If our enemies hear of it they may attack, thinking the King is too distracted by his son’s illness to properly defend his kingdom. But a contagious disease is the best I can think of for now. Let’s go back and check on Arthur.”

While Gaius and Merlin were talking about him in the other room, Arthur waited, sitting on the edge of the bed and staring pensively into the fire. He just felt so empty, and so weak. His mind was spinning to try to find anything even slightly familiar for him to grasp as an anchor to reality. Without one, he felt like he was floating away. His grip on his emotions was very tenuous. He could feel his breathing was unsteady, and moisture was forming at the corners of his eyes. Of course, with his bad luck, just at that moment Merlin and Gaius returned to the main room. He wiped his eyes with the backs of his hands as surreptitiously as possible.

“Arthur.” Gaius seemed to be assessing his condition again, and he felt like the physician’s eyes were baring all his secrets. Arthur avoided looking at him, turning his head back to the fire instead, as he struggled to maintain his composure. Gaius briefly placed a hand on this shoulder in reassurance, and handed him two potions, one green and one clear.

“The green one is for the pain. It’s concentrated, so no more often than one spoon every four hours, if needed. Don’t take more than that. The clear one affects the mind—bringing clarity of thought, so it is said. Take only one spoon three times a day.”

“Clarity of thought? Will that help me remember?” Arthur turned to search the physician’s face for answers.

Gaius paused, and then, returning Arthur’s gaze steadily, said, “I’ll be honest with you, Arthur. We are dealing in unknown territory here. Potions affecting the mind can be very dangerous, and much is unknown about how they work on the mind. This particular one has a history of limited side effects, but whether ‘clarity of thought’ will result, and indeed whether it would result in regained memories, I cannot say.”

Arthur frowned. “So unknown results. Hmm. You said something about side effects?” He rubbed his forehead, trying to soothe the ache pounding there.

“Yes, general body aches, possible nausea, and headaches.”

“Just great. I’ve already got all of those from the bang on the head…let’s just add to it,” Arthur commented sarcastically.

Gaius sat down on the stool by the bed. “Sire, we need to decide what to tell the king about your condition.”

“What do you suggest we tell him?” Arthur frowned. I don’t remember anything about him to be in a position to advise. I don’t know my own father-it feels like I’ve never even met him. You’ll probably have to point him out to me when he’s in the same room.”

Merlin, who had been hovering behind Gaius’ worktable, came forward now. “Arthur, if the King learns you can’t remember who you are, he will immediately jump to the conclusion that you have been bewitched. He won’t accept that your amnesia was caused by the head injury. He is convinced all problems are the result of magic. He is rather prejudiced against sorcerers and only considers them worthy of beheading or burning, regardless of what they have actually done or, usually, not done.” Merlin tried to keep his emotions in check, but he knew some of his passion on the subject had crept into his words. He wanted to impress upon the-Arthur-who-can’t-remember the injustice of Uther’s beliefs, when he wasn’t burdened by what Uther had taught him all his life about magic being evil.

“Merlin’s right, Sire. He’ll assume you’ve been ensorcelled and will hunt down any magic users his men can find, to demand they restore your memories before he puts them to death.”

“I don’t want that. What do you suggest we do?”

The physician continued, “I think the best course of action is that we say you have developed a contagious disease, such as marsh fever, which will require you be quarantined. That should hold Uther off a while, but probably only a day or two before he will insist on seeing you. I’ll allow a brief visit, keeping him at a distance. That will give some time for the potion to work and hopefully restore your memory.” Gaius concluded with another reassuring pat to Arthur’s shoulder, “We’ll manage it, don’t worry.”

Merlin added, “We should move to Arthur’s chambers, where he can be quarantined. I will serve him, of course, as I have already been exposed to the ‘illness’ on the trip.”

“Sire, the symptoms of marsh fever include the headaches you already have, but most importantly the fever, which you don’t have, Gaius counseled. “However, I believe I have something that can be added to your food to cause you to fever quite easily.”

“Great. Now nothing will ever taste good again,” Arthur complained. He amended, “Just joking Gaius,” when he saw the physician’s face fall.

“You’ll need to take it in case someone manages to see you, even at a distance, to ensure the quarantine is not suspicious. Just to be safe,” Merlin added.

Arthur narrowed his eyes and frowned at him. “Now, you, MER-lin, I think, just want to torture me with all these vile-tasting potions and unappetizing meals.”

“Just to protect you as I always do, S-i-i-re.” Merlin rejoined, drawing out the ‘Sire’ into a sarcastic imitation of the title.

 

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Gaius reported to the King in the council chambers that the Prince had fallen ill with marsh fever, so he had returned from the hunt early.

  
“Is it serious, Gaius?” Uther inquired calmly.

“Marsh fever can be debilitating, as it causes fever and headaches, and can result in unconsciousness and death if the illness is severe.” Uther turned his attention sharply to Gaius at the word ‘death,’ narrowing his eyes. “Fortunately, Your Highness, I don’t think Arthur’s case will be that serious. However, marsh fever is quite contagious, so in order to prevent any further spread of the disease, Arthur will need to be quarantined. Currently, he is in his chambers and I would request guards be posted at the doors to prevent anyone from entering or leaving until the illness has abated.”

Uther nodded his agreement, and signaled Sir Leon to pass the command on to the castle guards. “But Gaius, under the quarantine, who will tend to Arthur? He surely can’t be left on his own while he is ill?”

“Oh no, but Merlin was exposed the same as Arthur was on the trip. He has been with Arthur since he took ill, so Merlin is the best one to be taking care of the Prince. He must have some inherent resistance to the disease, as he has not shown any symptoms as of yet. Comes from sturdy country stock, I suppose, even though he hardly looks sturdy. I myself must limit my exposure to them both, so I can continue to serve the court and residents of Camelot as the Court Physician.”

“How long do you think he will be indisposed? I have Sir Aden and his daughter, the Lady Alys, coming next week for a visit.” Uther frowned while a touch of petulance edged into his tone. He didn’t want this not-serious illness of Arthur’s to interfere with his plans.

Gaius kept his face carefully neutral, but inwardly grimaced on Arthur’s behalf. This no doubt was one in the long list of princesses and assorted noblewomen to be paraded before Uther as a bride for Arthur. Her father would whisper in Uther’s ear how worthy an ally he would be for Camelot. For the wooing was mostly of Uther by the visitors, as this would be a marriage of political advantage, not one born in love. If Arthur were lucky, the love would grow over time.

“It is difficult to say, Sire. A few days, perhaps a week.” To himself he added, ‘Hopefully that will be enough time to get Arthur’s memory back.’

“Very well, but I want reports daily and news if anything changes in his condition.”

“Of course, Sire.”

 

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	3. Chapter 3

Merlin had to lead Arthur to his chambers since he didn’t remember the route.  Once inside, Arthur stopped just inside the door, his mouth falling open.

Merlin asked, “What?”

“It’s just everything is so…opulent. The curtains, the furniture, the pillows.  The size of the room, or multiple rooms I guess.  I really am a prince. I guess I hadn’t absorbed the truth of it before.” Arthur felt embarrassed almost at the luxury of his chambers, compared to what he’d seen in Gaius’ quarters earlier. 

“Yeah, well normally you don’t seem overly impressed by your rooms.  You just accept it as your due as Crown Prince.  You’re really rather an arrogant prat most of the time.” Merlin advised.

Arthur said nothing further but moved into the bedchamber.  Merlin steered him to sit on the bed, and knelt to remove Arthur’s boots. Arthur looked down at the black crop of Merlin’s hair.  An image flashed in his mind of the dark hair and a cheeky grin, smiling just at him.  He closed his eyes in concentration and tried to cling to the picture, to keep it close and covet it and expand it beyond a single image. He was rewarded with another flash of the young man’s face sweating and in pain, and he felt a stab of emotion he wasn’t quite sure how to label. Then, as quickly as it came, it was gone.

Unfortunately, Merlin noticed.  “Are you feeling alright, Arthur?

“I think we both know the answer to that idiotic question is ‘No,’” Arthur snapped.

Merlin responded, raising both hands up, “OK, I’ll back off, don’t upset yourself further. “  Arthur fumed at that statement as well. It was all well and good for Merlin to say ‘don’t get upset’ but he wasn’t the one with no past and feeling horrible in the present.’ He tried to steady himself with some deep breathing in and out.

Merlin offered, “How about a bath? It will help relax the stiff muscles.”

“Yes, that would be good.”

Merlin set to work hauling the royal bathtub out from its alcove, and opened the door a crack to look for signs of the quarantine being enforced. Yes, two guards jumped at the opening door, whirled and lowered their pikes menacingly. Merlin spoke loudly through the slight opening, “Just need hot bath water prepared and delivered here to the door for the Prince’s bath.”  Closing the door, he turned back to Arthur, still seated on the bed.  “Let’s finish getting you undressed.”

 “What?” Arthur gulped. “Did you say you want to undress me?” Arthur’s mind was spinning at that thought, but he wasn’t sure why.

Merlin huffed exasperatedly.  He spoke slowly, like to a simpleton, “Dressing and undressing you is part of my job, Arthur.  I’ve been doing it for years.”

Unbidden a thought slipped into Arthur’s mind as he continued to stare at Merlin.  He wondered, _‘What else is part of Merlin’s job that I haven’t realised? What else has he been doing for me for years?’_

Arthur slammed that mental door shut firmly and stood. Merlin came forward and began unbuckling his vambraces from Arthur’s wrists and removed them.  Arthur shivered as he felt Merlin’s fingers skim along his arms.  Then Merlin was unbuckling the straps at his back, and lifting the breastplate and shoulder paldron over his head. Arthur bit his lip as Merlin’s hands then skated down his back. Merlin loosened the prince’s sword belt and slid it off his waist.  “Now lean forward,” he directed Arthur and lifted off the heavy chain mail shirt.  Merlin set that aside on the table.  He returned to Arthur and undid the gambeson’s ties and slipped the padded tunic off Arthur’s shoulders and arms.

Arthur stood as still as he could while Merlin’s deft fingers moved over his body, removing  layer after layer. Each touch felt as if it were burning his skin below.  Now that there was just the thin fine linen of his tunic between his skin and Merlin’s long fingers, his breaths had become uneven.  Arthur spoke, his voice huskier than usual. “Stop, Merlin. I’ll do the rest.” He couldn’t even imagine Merlin removing his trousers and smallclothes.

The knock at the door forestalled any reply Merlin might have had to Arthur’s directive to stop undressing him.  The servant moved to the door, and the Prince escaped behind the dressing screen. While Merlin was busy with the buckets of hot water, Arthur removed his tunic, trousers and smalls. He thought it must be just a fantasy, an imaginative dream--these strange sensations Merlin was causing with just his elegant fingers. However much a fantasy his mind was showing him, his body was reacting in reality—he was half-hard just from Merlin’s touch through the layers of his clothing. He tried thinking about grain reports and supply lists, anything but Merlin.

Merlin called out, “It’s ready now,” and Arthur stepped out from behind the screen wearing a towel around his waist.  Merlin moved over to the fireplace to tend the logs, giving Arthur privacy as he entered the tub.

Once in, he sank up to his shoulders in the warmth and felt himself relax for the first time since the fall. Merlin returned with soap and a flannel. “Let me wash your hair and clean the cut in your scalp.” He knelt on the floor behind Arthur’s back at the tub’s end, wetting the cloth and drizzling the water repeatedly over Arthur’s golden hair.  He parted the hair around the wound and gently washed away the dried blood. Then he began soaping Arthur’s wet hair, massaging his scalp as he worked the soap in.

Arthur, eyes closed, nearly groaned with the pleasure as Merlin’s skillful fingers eased the tension from the headache. He managed to stifle it so it was more a ‘mmmph’, rather than an out-and-out groan.  He was sure he had never been tended to in such a gentle manner before this--he would have remembered this, memory loss or not, surely. 

“Rinse,” Merlin commanded, pushing down on Arthur’s head so he ducked under the water briefly.  He then turned his attention to Arthur’s neck and shoulders, searching out the knots in the muscles and kneading them to ease the tension. He stroked across the collarbone, pushing deep with his knuckles. Arthur turned his head to the side to give Merlin better access to a particularly stiff spot, exposing his neck and straining tendons. He sighed to Merlin, “Feels so good…”

_‘Has Merlin done this for me before? And what else had he done?’_   Arthur wondered again.

Merlin chuckled.  “So I do have some talents you appreciate, eh?  I’m not the completely worthless manservant you tell me I am.”

“Do I tell you that?”

“All the time.”

“Hmm.  Well, your fingers are definitely not worthless right now. Keep doing what you are doing. And that’s a royal command.”

“Yes, s-i-i-re.”

As Merlin washed Arthur’s shoulders and then down to his arms, Arthur wondered how far Merlin was going.  He wasn’t sure anymore what kind of a relationship they had, whether it was as friends or something more than friends.  It was immaterial, really, as he knew that without memories from before his accident, he wasn’t prepared for ‘something more’, whatever that might entail.  Decisively, he sat a bit straighter in the tub, and grabbed the cloth from Merlin’s hand.  “I’ll finish washing up here, go do whatever it is you do.”

Merlin puzzled, “Sire?” said for once without a trace of sarcasm. “What I do?”

“You know, when you are servant-ing. You said you took care of my armour--doesn’t it need polishing?” He was staring at a spot on the wall over Merlin’s shoulder...anywhere but at Merlin’s confused face.

Merlin sighed. “Always.  For some reason you think it has to shine like the sun. All the better to make you a magnet for bandits and assassins, I suppose.”  He lurched up from his kneeling position and handed Arthur the soap.  He went to the other room and Arthur heard metal clanking.

“Oi, be careful with that armour.”

“Yes, s-i-i-re.” The sarcasm was back, Arthur noted ruefully.

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It did not take but a matter of hours before Merlin was ready to strangle Arthur himself.  The prince was a notoriously bad patient normally, but he was outdoing himself this time.  The bath had been pleasant enough; however, Arthur seemed strangely modest at the end.  He had nothing to be modest about with his fit body and golden coloring--he looked like a sun god. He had been naked in front of Merlin many times, although Merlin tried not to stare openly.  Of course, now Arthur couldn’t recall his previous behavior, and he had been almost shy in front of Merlin.  It seemed odd.

Normally, Merlin did not bathe Arthur beyond helping wash his hair, but since Arthur didn’t remember that, he had indulged himself and continued on with the massage and washing.  When Arthur exposed his neck to Merlin, it was all he could do to stop himself from bending over and sucking a trail of kisses from the base of his throat to the pulse at his jaw and further up to nibble on his ear.  Merlin was even thankful when Arthur put a stop to Merlin’s help, ending the enticement that was Arthur’s skin.  He himself wasn’t sure what he would have done once he reached the water line. 

Then Arthur got testy.  Having Merlin polish his armour was only the start of it.  First it was that the noise was too loud _(_ how loud could polishing be, anyway?).  Then Arthur complained the room was too bright, so Merlin drew the drapes closed over the windows.  Then he demanded something to eat, which Merlin requested from the guards outside the door. Once the simple meal of stew, some cheese and fruit was delivered, Merlin added a powder to the stew, which was Gaius’ concoction for producing the fever.  Arthur paced instead of eating. 

“What is it now? Why are you pacing about?” Merlin asked a bit tiredly.

“I’m just restless.”

“You are still limping.”

“Well, my knee still hurts, that’s why,” Arthur replied petulantly.

“Sit down and eat something.”

“I’m not hungry now.”

_‘The obstinacy of that man.’_   Merlin commanded, “You have to eat some stew so you’ll be feverish. Gaius’ powder for the fever is in the stew.” 

“Did you just order me to eat?” said the Prince to the manservant in a disbelieving tone, halting his pacing to stare at Merlin.

“Yes.” Merlin took advantage of Arthur’s sudden stillness, and forcibly pushed him with his hands on his chest toward the chair and the food. “And now I’m pushing you about.  Eat.”

“I can’t believe I let you get away with this sort of behavior,” Arthur muttered to himself.  As he picked up the spoon to start in on the stew, he steeled himself.  He managed a few bites before his face turned pale and he lunged from his seat towards the bed and the chamber pot where he emptied his stomach contents.

“So you are still nauseous. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Arthur didn’t answer as he lay on the bed and curled into himself, his back to Merlin. “Go away.” 

Merlin replied grumpily, “Sorry, I’m not allowed to ‘go away.’ I am quarantined in this room just like you and believe me, I’m not particularly happy about it right now.”  Merlin's role as the physician’s assistant took over now that Arthur had retreated to the bed in evident pain.  He gave Arthur the medicines and then told him, “I’ll get Gaius to make up a liquid for the fever-inducing medicine so you can take it without needing to eat.  However, you will need to be eating something soon to keep your strength.”  Merlin could see the pain-reducing potion was taking effect, as Arthur’s eyes were half-closed already.  He was asleep before long. 

Finally Merlin had a chance to sit down and rest.  He looked about the room, and realized he had yet another problem.  There was no other bed besides Arthur’s in which he could sleep. And he wasn’t about to put himself in that position tonight. If bathing Arthur and seeing all that skin had been a form of torture, he couldn’t image what it would be to lie beside Arthur in his bed.  No, he’d just have to make do with some blankets and furs piled in front of the fire.  He’d get more sleep there.

Merlin settled into his nest of a bed, and drifted off to sleep.  He’d probably only been asleep an hour or two, when he realised Arthur was shouting: “Merlin, wake up you idiot!”

He lifted his head and uttered, “Wha’?”

Arthur was glaring at him from his bed, ‘It’s too quiet now; so quiet I can hear your breathing. I can’t fall asleep listening to that!”

“So what? You want me to stop breathing so you can sleep. I don’t think so.”  Merlin was fully awake now.  “Make up your mind, first it is too noisy then it is too quiet.  First you are hungry, and then you aren’t.  Next you’ll be demanding candles lit because it is too dark.”  It was at this point he was considering whether strangulation or poison would be best to kill Arthur.

“Ssshh.  Now you are too loud.” He could see Arthur was rubbing his temples trying to force the pounding in his head to stop.  H felt a twinge of pity, abandoned his murder plans, and tossed the blanket over his head as he snuggled deeper in his bed. Maybe that would stifle the loud breathing Arthur was imagining.

 

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As the bedroom chamber became brighter with the dawn, Arthur moaned.  His head was thumping incessantly, and would only get worse with the brighter light. Between the headache and the nausea, he already didn’t feel human.  Not having memories was just compounding the feeling. 

He stared at the elegant canopy over his bed.  Now that he’d had two doses of the mind clarity potion, he considered what he could remember.  It was still just vague snatches of images.  Merlin, Gaius, and another man he presumed was his father (logically, based on the crown on his head), images of knights in training--each flickered through his consciousness.  It was flashes of Merlin most frequently, laughing, grinning, but also tense and worried.  Arthur didn’t want to examine too closely just why his mind was focusing on Merlin so much.  They did apparently spend most of the time together even without the quarantine in place. _‘Well, that only made sense for the Prince’s manservant to be nearby all the time in case his master needed something._ ’ And it sounded like Arthur was a needy, arrogant prat with a huge sense of entitlement due to his title.  Arthur wasn’t so sure he liked the before-Arthur much at all.

In order to get his mind off Merlin and his own continued failure to remember much of his life, Arthur decided to get up as the sun had clearly risen now. He could see his hapless manservant’s black hair barely peeking out of a pile of blankets and furs on the floor. 

“MER-lin, up and at ‘em!’

“Nooo,” the pile moaned.

There was movement of the blankets, and Merlin’s head appeared. _‘Oh Gods, his hair was completely messed up and his eyes hooded with sleep.  He looked so…endearing.’_ Arthur winced visibly, wondering where that thought came from.

“Get up, you lazy daisy!”

“You’ve been waiting forever to say that to me, haven’t you?”

“Yes, ah, no…I don’t know, damn it,” Arthur finished with frustration.

Merlin did get up, and went behind Arthur’s dressing screen to wash a bit.  No need to get dressed as he’d slept in what he wore all day yesterday.  It’s not like he had more than a change or two of clothing anyway, but he’d forgotten to get them from his chamber before the quarantine began.  He began a mental list of what he needed to have Gaius bring him:  his pillow, his magic book, his clothes…

“Why were you sleeping on the floor?” Arthur demanded with his brow furrowed, trying to find a reason.

Merlin returned from behind the screen and looked about the room.  “Do you see any second bed in your chambers, Arthur?” he asked sarcastically.

“No but this one is big enough for—“ Arthur stopped abruptly, in the middle of gesturing around his bed, with a look of confusion on his face _._

“I’d never get any sleep there--you are always tossing and turning, not to mention the snoring.” Merlin thought to himself a bit incredulously, _‘Arthur just invited me to join him in bed and stupidly I have declined the offer.’_   But if he were honest with himself, he didn’t want to take advantage of Arthur’s lack of memories by pretending to be more than his friend. _‘Yes, that is all I am, just a good friend.’_   Merlin turned towards the fireplace and knelt down to tend the fire, the heat providing a convenient reason why his ears and face had turned red.

“I do not snore.” Arthur declared.

“You can disagree with me all you want, but I heard you last night and have heard you on many nights when we are camping out, so there is really no point in your denial.” Before Arthur could continue the argument, Merlin changed the subject. “Anything to report on remembering more?”

Arthur sighed. “Not really.  Still just flashes of images. Just there are some more new ones.”

“Well, that’s something then.  But you need to give the medicine more time to work.  Here’s this morning’s dose.” Merlin offered the spoon with the clear potion.  “What about the pain reliever, do you want that this morning?”

“Maybe later.”

“I’m not going to dress you today. If you are as sick as we are pretending you are, then you should stay in your nightclothes.”

 “Pretending I’m sick?  This doesn’t feel much like pretending to me.” Arthur rubbed his temples and sighed.

“Your head is still bothering you I see.” Merlin offered, “How about I order up some breakfast for you?  Lack of food can cause headaches as well.”

Arthur shrugged his shoulders noncommittally.

Merlin went to the door and cracked it to speak with the guards.  “Could you request Gaius come to speak to me and have a simple meal brought up for the Prince? Just some broth and bread.”

Within fifteen minutes, Gaius knocked on the door. Merlin opened it a crack and saw that he and Gaius had bit of privacy with the guards backing away from the door, out of earshot, but staying in sight.

“How are you both this morning?” Gaius queried.

“Me? I’m fine, but I’ll need some things brought here.  We can talk later about that.  It’s Arthur we need to discuss.  He’s still having headaches and nausea.  He only ate a little bit at dinner and vomited shortly thereafter.  So he didn’t get much at all of the fever-inducing powder.  He had a pretty restless night, not sure how much sleep he got.  Can you mix the powder into a liquid that would be much easier for him to take?  Also, since he’s not eating much at all, I want the food to taste as appetizing as it can to encourage him to eat.”

“Certainly Merlin, I will make a liquid potion immediately.  Any results from the mind clarity potion yet?”

“He says just flashes of images, but there are more of them.”

“Hmm, well, that might be a good sign. Hard to say yet.  We need patience with this.  What was it you needed brought here from your room?”

Merlin recounted, “My other clothes, my pillow, and my magic book.”

Gaius was aghast.  “No, Merlin, you can’t have that book right here under Arthur’s nose?  What if he finds it? It’s full of notes in your own handwriting.  If he sees it, he’ll know you have magic immediately.”

Merlin pleaded, “I’m going to find a really good hiding place in here.” 

Gaius said, “Well, until you do, I’m not bringing the book. Why the pillow? Where are you sleeping?”

“On the floor with lots of blankets.”

”We can have a mattress delivered for you to use. You can put it in Arthur’s anteroom for a bit more privacy. I’m sorry I didn’t think to request this last night. I’ll speak to the steward as soon as I mix up the new potion.”

 

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	4. Chapter 4

Arthur only ate a few spoonfuls of broth and a part of a roll for breakfast, but he at least kept it down.  Then he paced a bit and settled on reading as his pastime for the morning. He delved excitedly into the tome on Roman siege machines Merlin offered him.  Despite the topic being of great interest to him, his eyelids got heavier and heavier and then he was asleep.

Merlin took the respite Arthur’s sleep offered and settled down to nap himself, when there was a knock at the door, not at the main door but at the servants' entrance in the anteroom.  “Merlin, it’s Gaius.”

Merlin cracked this door and saw Gaius holding a new potion, his pack and a pillow, and behind him, standing on end, a mattress with some arms visibly wrestling to hold it upright. 

Gaius directed, “Return to the other chamber, Merlin, and then we can enter the anteroom with the mattress.”  Merlin did as he was told, distancing himself from the visitors to prevent the ‘contamination’ that was feared.

Gaius called out loudly over the sounds of footsteps and the mattress being shuffled into place.  “I’m leaving the potion for Arthur we discussed this morning on the sideboard.  And I’ve brought a pillow and your pack with your clothing. I’ll leave it here on the mattress.”

“Thank you Gaius. I can’t thank you enough for the mattress—I’ll sleep so much better.”  Once they had departed and the anteroom door was closed, Merlin entered the small annex, found that the mattress looked to be from one of the guest chambers so should be a delight to sleep upon, much better quality than his own servant’s mattress.  He dug through the pack and put the few clothes he had in the sideboard, and returned to Arthur’s bedroom for the blankets and furs.  Once the bed was made to his satisfaction, he dropped onto it.  It was heavenly, soft and smooth, almost as nice as Arthur’s bed.  He settled under the blankets and started on that nap which Gaius had interrupted.

At lunch, Arthur only ate the bread, and refused anything more.  Merlin administered the fever-producing potion, and the pain-relieving liquid as Arthur said his headaches were still bothering him, and Merlin could see that the limp had not diminished. The medicines made Arthur drowsy so within a few more pages of the book, he was asleep again.  But he was much more restless than earlier.  He was tossing and fighting with the covers as his fever began to build. Merlin requested some cool water and cloths to be delivered.

Once they arrived, he soaked a cloth and dabbed at Arthur’s forehead.  He was sweating now. He plucked weakly at his shirt and Merlin obliged him by removing it.  This, of course, exposed Arthur’s sweating chest to Merlin’s avid gaze.  He had seen it many times before, but he couldn’t usually stare without Arthur realizing his inappropriate behavior. But now, with Arthur asleep, he gazed over the muscular shoulders, the dip above his collarbone, the fine downy hair on his pecs, his nipples that begged to be touched, and the hard surface of his stomach.  He almost flinched as he realised he could touch Arthur to cool him with the wet cloth.

His hand shook as he dipped the cloth in the water again and started with Arthur’s face, then moved to his neck. Arthur moaned slightly and Merlin halted and waited.  But Arthur wasn’t waking, just moaning in his sleep. Merlin continued wiping across Arthur's collarbone and then to his nipples and pectorals dusted lightly with dark blonde hair. Merlin felt his own trousers getting tighter. With a deep breath, he told himself that this could not continue.  His hand was betraying him by continuing to stroke Arthur’s neck with the cloth.  He forced himself to physically step away from the bed, so he could not reach out to touch Arthur, breaking the connection he felt.

Merlin retreated to the antechamber, and lay down on his bed.  Physically, he needed some relief.  He lifted his tunic a bit and slid his hand, still wet from cooling off Arthur, slowly down his flat stomach to undo his trousers.  He pushed his trousers and smallclothes down to his thighs, and took his heavy and stiff cock in hand.  He allowed images of Arthur to fill his mind.  Arthur breathing heavily with his luscious pouty lips parted. Arthur in the bath with his neck exposed.  He pumped slowly from the base of his cock to the head, and when he reached the head, he added a twist to his hand.  His thumb rubbed over the slit, spreading the moisture on the foreskin and down the shaft. 

He imagined Arthur kissing his neck, sucking at the curve where his neck met his shoulder.  Moving lower down his chest to lick both nipples.  He could almost hear his own gasps in response.  Arthur’s mouth moved lower yet, following the trail of dark hair past his belly button down to his hard cock.

The pace of the strokes of his hand increased, firmly gripping his own cock now, not lightly as before.  His other hand, which had been lazily stroking his side, moved to his own nipple and twisted it. He was close to the edge, just a little bit more…he could see Arthur taking his cock in his mouth, his tongue laving the head, tasting the bitter pre-come at the slit, tonguing the vein underneath.  Then he went deeper, taking as much of Merlin as he could.  That was enough.  A moan escaped Merlin's lips as his pulsing come painted his stomach and hands.

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“Merlin, I’m bored.” Arthur whinged after a dinner where he had finally drunk most of the broth and eaten the entire slice of bread, keeping it down.  He was still feverish, but awake and restless.

“Have you finished your book?”  Merlin was circling the room, lighting candles, as the last of the daylight faded from the window.

“No, but I am tired of reading and it is dark now.”  Arthur was up and pacing the room in his agitation over the confinement.

“What about chess? Are you up for a game? Merlin offered.

“What? You know how?  Yes, yes, by all means.”

Merlin opened the bottom drawer of the nightstand and pulled out the chessboard and the bag with the pieces. It was a wooden set, with the board inlaid with different colors of exotic woods to make the squares, and an intricately carved woven border around the edges of the board.    The pieces also were the beautiful handiwork of a skilled craftsman.  The Knights were carved on rearing chargers, the Castles had such detail you could see the carved outlines of the stones.  Each of the Pawns was a coiled dragon, just like that on the Pendragon crest. It must have been a gift to Uther or Arthur from another king.

Merlin avoided mentioning that it was Morgana who had taught him chess.  They’d played when the weather was too bad to go out. Arthur was still sensitive about the loss of Morgana, at least the Arthur-with-memories was.  Merlin realized he wasn’t sure about this Arthur, he didn’t think he had remembered Morgana at all—he hadn’t mentioned her.

“It is a lovely set. Where did it come from?” Merlin asked.

Arthur sighed.  “You are asking me like I can remember things.  I can’t.”

“So do you remember how to play chess? Or will that be your excuse when you lose to me?” Merlin taunted with a smile on his face. He knew Arthur wouldn’t resist that challenge—he loved any sort of competition.

Arthur smirked back at Merlin, his eyes glinting from the dare-or was it the fever?  “Oh, you are going to lose. Count on it.”

Morgana had taught Merlin chess and its strategy well, well enough that even though he had never played Arthur before, they declared the match a stalemate after over an hour and a half. 

“It’s time for the mind medicine, now Arthur.” said Merlin as he went over to the sideboard where he was keeping the medical supplies. “Do you need more pain medication too?

“Yes, my head is still pounding.” He downed both potions dutifully, and Merlin asked the usual question, “Are you remembering anything more, Arthur?”

“No, I wish you would stop asking me that,” the prince barked.  “I’ll let you know if something new occurs.”

“Gaius told me to ask every time I gave you the potion, so I'm just following directions.  I’m not doing it to irritate you,” Merlin explained.

Merlin tended Arthur’s bed, smoothing the sheets and straightening the covers.  Then he sat on the bed. “Arthur, come over here,” he said quietly.

Arthur’s head swiveled to look at Merlin.  “What?”

“Come here.”

Arthur couldn’t resist, and moved from the table to stand beside the bed, as if he were a moth drawn to Merlin’s flame.  Merlin scooted up to lean against the headboard, patting the bed beside him as he stretched out his lanky legs, crossing his ankles.

“What on earth are you trying to tell me, Merlin? Are you presuming to invite me to my own bed? The prince snapped haughtily. “Why are you in my bed anyway?” Arthur regarded Merlin with narrowed eyes.

“Yes...no. What?”  Merlin was not following Arthur’s thoughts. Then it hit him what Arthur was really asking was in response to Merlin’s invitation. Merlin closed his eyes as he recognized what Arthur must be thinking, that Merlin had invited him to the bed because they were lovers

“No, I didn’t mean to imply anything. No, no. We aren’t…we’ve never…well, I was just going to massage your head to help with the headaches.  I can see they still bother you.”

Arthur let out a small “Oh.” He was shocked at the intensity of his disappointment. He recalled all the images of Merlin that had come to his mind as he tried to find memories.  He finally admitted to himself that evidently he was really attracted to Merlin, butno, he was just a friend _._ Brushing away the feelings of desire and regret, he decided to focus on what Merlin **was** offering, and sat down on the bed.

“Now lean back against me so I can reach your head more easily.” 

Arthur did as told for once, without a squabble.  He gently leaned back against Merlin’s chest, stretching his legs out in front, mimicking Merlin’s position.  Arthur lay partially beside Merlin, but his head fell against the raven-haired man’s shoulder as the prince settled against Merlin’s chest.

“You’re warm,” Merlin commented.

“Well, I **am** supposed to be suffering from a fever, you know.”

“True.  Now let’s see what we can do about the headaches.”  Merlin threaded his long fingers into Arthur’s golden hair.  His fingers moved in small circles on the temples, then to the middle of the scalp, then down the back of the head. He gently touched the spot where the knot had formed from the fall. “I think the bump is smaller now.”

Arthur closed his eyes and focused on Merlin’s touch.  “Mmmm.” He felt some of the tension in his head easing away.  “You have magic fingers, Merlin.”

Merlin smiled to himself at that comment.  _‘What Arthur doesn’t know.’_

“Yes, I suppose I do. Is it good?”

“’Good’ is not the word for it. 'Fabulous' or 'outstanding', perhaps, but definitely not ‘good.’”

Merlin chuckled and continued his ministrations, fingers massaging Arthur’s brow, smoothing the furrows between his eyebrows.

Arthur’s breathing deepened and within a few more minutes he was sound asleep.

Arthur was sleeping too soundly so Merlin stayed where he was.  He could feel that Arthur was still feverishly warm, but his sleep was calmer and deeper than the night before.  Merlin adjusted his own position a bit so he could lie completely down on the bed, Arthur still leaning against his side.  Merlin pulled the covers up over them both.  _‘And here I said I wouldn’t share his bed’,_ he thought _._

Arthur turned towards Merlin in his sleep, finally assuming a prone position, and threw his arm over Merlin’s chest, hugging him closer.  Now Merlin would have no chance of sneaking out to his own bed without waking Arthur up.  He resigned himself to spending the night in Arthur’s bed and trying to ignore the sensations from Arthur’s body against his. He expected he would get little sleep this night.

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When Arthur awoke, the sunshine was streaming in the window since Merlin never got a chance to close the curtains the night before.  He felt warm--and it wasn’t just the fever--there was a warmth next to him, in the bed.  He opened one eye and saw a shock of black hair. Oh gods, what was Merlin doing in his bed now that he had one of his own?  Arthur was further aghast as he recognized that his own arm draped over Merlin’s chest. He tried to remember what had happened last night before he fell asleep.  Merlin had told him to come over the bed, he’d been disappointed to learn Merlin was only offering to massage Arthur’s scalp. That was all. He didn’t think anything else happened, but with a lot of his old memories missing, he wasn’t particularly confident in remembering new ones either.

He carefully removed his arm from Merlin’s chest and slid to the far edge of the bed, as far away from Merlin as he could.  Merlin wasn’t his lover--Arthur couldn’t touch him like that, as much as he was coming to recognize that he did want to.  But his movements weren’t careful and quiet enough, and Merlin began to stir. 

Still with his eyes closed, Merlin laced his fingers together, clasped his hands over his head and stretched, muttering, “Well, that was a mistake.” 

Arthur had no idea what that meant, and before he could stop himself, he asked, ‘What was a mistake?” even though he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.

“I’m all stiff from not moving all night.  I didn’t want to wake you by moving around or getting out of bed.”

“Oh.” Arthur didn’t know what else to say. “Sorry?” 

Merlin shifted out of the bed, muffling a groan. “Nah, it is my own fault.  You were just sleeping so deeply compared to the night before, that I didn’t want to disturb you. Do you feel like getting out of bed now?

“Yes, I like to wash up a bit.”

“A bath?”

Arthur quickly, almost too quickly, responded “No, just some warm water in the basin.” He didn’t want the temptation that a bath would bring this morning.

After Arthur washed and ate some of the breakfast that was delivered, he began pacing. “I’ve been sleeping enough already.  I need to do something more active than read or play chess.”  It was understandable that Arthur was chafing at the confinement, given that he was a man used to daily physical activity. 

An avid grin took over Arthur’s face, as an idea came to him. “Tell the guards outside that I want one of the knights to come here to receive orders.”

Before Merlin could convey that order to the guards, there was sharp knock on the anteroom door—it was Gaius.  He whispered to Merlin, “Tell Arthur, the King is coming to see him. I’ve not been able to hold him off any longer.”

“When? “

“He is on his way now.  I’ll only allow him to speak to Arthur from the doorway, so keep Arthur in bed, and please make sure he looks feverish or our ploy may fall apart.”

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	5. Chapter 5

Arthur’s face went blank when Merlin told him his father was about to visit him. Merlin was speaking rapidly, trying to cram 30 minutes of advice into about 30 seconds. “You are always very formal with him. You call him Father sometimes, but more often ‘M’Lord’ or ‘Sire.’ Whatever you do, don’t bring up the subject of magic or sorcerers or, the Gods forbid, Morgana. Now get back into bed.”

“Who’s Morgana?” he asked as he sat on the bed.

Merlin hissed, “Above all, don’t say things like that, like you don’t remember! Morgana is your father’s ward and you were raised together as brother and sister. She has been missing over ten months now, and Uther is still demanding search parties and patrols to hunt for any trace of her.” Merlin brought a clean white linen shirt to Arthur and helped him slide into it.

‘A sister, I have a sort-of-sister. Why is nothing coming to me? I should be able to remember a near-sibling I was raised with. And still no memories of my father, no memories of my mother.’

Arthur frowned, suddenly realizing that no one had spoken of his mother. “Merlin, what about my mother? Where is she? No one has mentioned her.”

Merlin exhaled with a whoosh and gathered another breath. “Your mother, Ygraine, is another topic Uther never discusses. I think you told me you had only spoken with your father twice about your mother in your whole life before Morgause told…never mind, no time for that now.” Merlin put his hand on Arthur’s shoulder, and added, “I’m sorry, Arthur, but your mother died giving birth to you.” 

Arthur’s eyes got very large. He felt like he had been kicked in the gut. ‘No mother…because she died to give me life. And a father who was exacting and difficult. This can’t really be my life, can it?'

He was interrupted from further musings by a shock of cold-water droplets thrown in his face. “What was that for?” he sputtered at Merlin.  
“You’ve got to look like you have a fever, so it is supposed to look like sweat. Hopefully from a distance, it will.”

Before Arthur could complain further, there was a knock at the main door and Gaius calling out before he opened the door, “Prince Arthur, it is the King.”

Merlin quickly whispered, “I’ll stand in the anteroom doorway where Uther can’t see me and try to prompt you if he asks anything and you aren’t sure what to reply.” 

Gaius, held the door open for Uther and a guard who placed a chair at the doorway, and Uther settled into the seat as if it were a throne. “Arthur, how are you feeling?”

“Doing better, M’Lord.”

Gaius chimed in, “He is still feverish, and the headaches have not yet abated, Your Highness.” From Gaius’ perspective, Arthur did look feverish and sweating at this distance from the bed. He also had a furrowed brow indicative of his headache, which Gaius knew was all too real.

Uther continued, “I hope you’ll be able to return to some of your duties soon, even if you aren’t released from the quarantine yet. Sir Leon has arranged the patrols in your absence. The council is meeting again tomorrow morning, so I’ll have some reports brought here that you can study and advise me your opinions.”

“Very good, Sire.”

“And keep in mind Arthur, Sir Aden and his daughter Lady Alys are visiting next week. Aden’s properties are well positioned as a buffer between Camelot and Toris. They would make a nice complement to the kingdom as part of Lady Alys’ dowry.”

Arthur’s mouth dropped open as he realized Uther was discussing his marriage to some noblewoman he didn’t know. “Father, I don’t—“

He was cut off by Gaius’ statement, “I’m not sure if the quarantine will be lifted by next week, Sire. While the Prince has improved, his recovery has been slower than I expected.”

Arthur looked at Merlin for some sort of guidance, and he could see his manservant was miming something, wearing a decidedly frowning face, his hands waving about frantically as he shook his head negatively. Arthur had no clue what all those motions meant. 

“Arthur, you will make every effort to be well enough to visit with Lady Alys.” It wasn’t a question, but a command from the King.

“Of course, Sire.”

Uther stood as he asked, “Now, is there anything else you require, Arthur? Have Gaius and your boy—what is his name, Melvin?—taken care of your needs?

“Yes, Merlin and Gaius have been most helpful, Father. But there is one thing, could Sir Leon come visit at the doorway to give me a report on the most recent patrols and on the men in training.”

“Of course, as long as Gaius concurs?” Uther seemed pleased that Arthur was asking to resume some of his role as Camelot’s First Knight, even if it was from his bed.

Gaius nodded his head, “Certainly, Sire, I’ll speak to Sir Leon myself and explain the conditions of the visit.”

With a small wave, Uther left the room. The chair was removed by the guard and the door closed as Gaius spoke loudly, “I’ll stop by later.”

Arthur collapsed flat on his back, and released the breath he was holding. The tension eased out of his muscles as well. 

Merlin came forward and commented, “Well, that went better than I expected. Why did you ask for Sir Leon?”

“It just seemed like something Arthur would do.” His eyes slid evasively from Merlin’s face to a most interesting spot on the fireplace mantel.

“Well, it is, but you are Arthur,” Merlin snorted.

“I know, it just seems like I’m not the same person as the Arthur-with-a-lifetime-of-memories. It feels like I’m starting over.” He sighed heavily.

Arthur lowered his head and closed his eyes. Merlin could see Arthur was struggling to keep his composure. “You’ll get your memories back. I know it, Arthur.”

Arthur quickly glanced at Merlin’s face, and then changed the subject before the conversation got any deeper into feelings. He’d had enough of those for today. 

“What was all that motioning you were doing?” he questioned.

“That was me telling you to say nothing about the prospective brides. Uther knows you hate the idea of a political marriage, so this is really an attempt to goad you into another argument. He does that a lot. Ah…sort of, maybe, or maybe not. Perhaps he really wants you to consider this match?“ Merlin realized he had just criticized the King and back-pedaled furiously. Luckily Arthur had not comprehended much beyond the bridal candidates and political marriage.

“Did you say prospective brides? As in more than one?”

“Oh yes, some have visited in the past and I believe the King has lined up three more in the coming months.”

“Sounds like I am being bartered off for the best offer from all the kingdoms. Shouldn’t I be falling in love and then marrying?”

“For most people, yes. But you are the Crown Prince of Camelot and to your father, that means it is your duty to marry in Camelot’s best interests, not your own.”

“I don’t like the idea.” Arthur’s full lower lip stuck out just a bit further than normal. Merlin shook himself mentally when he recognized he’d been staring at Arthur’s lips for too long.

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Within fifteen minutes, a voice announced through the main door, “Sir Leon to see the Prince.” Merlin glanced at Arthur to be sure he still looked feverish, and said “Come in.”

The door opened and the ginger-headed knight bowed slightly and addressed Arthur, “Your Highness. I hope you are feeling better and are well on the road to recovery.”

“Thank you, Sir Leon. Anything new to report from the patrols?” Arthur asked, faking a small cough as he spoke. Merlin glared at him--coughing was not a symptom of marsh fever.

Leon, standing at attention at the doorway, responded, “No, m’Lord. The northern patrol found no sign of Lady Morgana. The patrol that headed east found evidence of a Druid encampment, but it was at least three weeks old. They continue searching, of course.”

“Of course. And how goes the training?” 

Leon’ face cracked into a broad smile. “You’ll be pleased, Sire, to know that Sir Reis’ son, Taddeus, has finally managed to hang onto his mace. Risk of injuries to the others has been drastically reduced; however I cannot say the same for Tad. He whacked himself with the mace twice, so I dismissed him to see the Court Physician for treatment.”

Arthur chuckled but added with a note of concern, “He wasn’t hurt seriously, was he?” The mace was a very dangerous weapon, even for the one who wielded it, particularly if he was still in training, like Tad.

“His pride suffered the most grievous of his injuries, I believe, Sire."

Arthur smiled. “Very well. I believe it will be another day or two before I can return to oversee the training, so carry on, Leon.”

“Of course, Sire. Is there anything else I can do for you?

With a sideways glance at his manservant who was tidying up the breakfast dishes, and using a casual tone, Arthur said, “Oh yes, Sir Leon, would you have one of the squires deliver my jousting armour on its form and my sword here to my chambers. Both are in need of polishing, and Merlin here has too much time on his hands.”

Merlin sputtered, “What?”

Sir Leon grinned. “I’ll see to it at once, Sire.”

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Arthur’s armour and one of his swords were delivered before mid-morning. Merlin maneuvered the standing form that held Arthur’s jousting armour into the chamber and took a concentrated look at the plates. “Honestly, Arthur, this does not need polishing.”

“Not yet it doesn’t,” Arthur replied with a smirk, as he picked up the sword and made his usual wrist-twirling motion with it. 

Without any further warning, Arthur unleashed the sword against the armour, whacking the gardbrace severely enough to dent it, toppling the form over to the floor. Merlin darted to stand in front of Arthur, shouting “What are you doing? Are you crazy?” 

“Merlin, set it upright again, and hold it there.”

“You are afflicted! Why are you doing this?” 

“To get some exercise. I can’t very well have a straw dummy for practicing delivered up here without causing questions. This way it is just more polishing work for Merlin.”

“And dent fixing. I’m very fond of your armour--I spend a lot of time polishing it--and I don’t like you bashing it up,” protested Merlin as he put the form upright again. 

“Hold it still now, Merlin.”

“No, you’ll bash me instead of the armour.”

“Just sit down on the floor and hold the base.”

Merlin flopped to the floor and hung on to the base of the armour form as Arthur let loose with additional blows to the breastplate and bevor in quick succession. The armour failed before Arthur became weary, but he set the sword aside.

“This should make you happy—I’m sweating now, and looking properly feverish.”

Merlin glared at him from his position huddled on the floor around the base of the armour stand. “Look at all the extra work you have made for me,” he complained. Then his eyes narrowed and he studied Arthur more closely. “Are you remembering more? It seems like you are acting more like a prat than you were before and your skill with the sword seems as good as ever.”

The Prince pursed his lips. “No, not really. The sword work—it’s just like it is natural to me. Like my body knows what to do, even though my mind doesn’t remember.” Arthur was glad some part of him was remembering. He just went with his gut reaction when he decided to order the armour and the sword brought to his chambers, knowing he needed to practice with them. Going with his instincts seemed to be right in this case.

‘But what about where Merlin is concerned? Those gut instincts tell me I am strongly attracted to him, but he doesn’t share the feelings. Even though I am his master, I cannot order him to share my bed, that would be an abuse of power…not likely he’d follow my orders anyways,’ Arthur mused. ‘He never does.’

“Arthur, are you there? Clotpole, answer me!” Merlin shook Arthur’s shoulders and stood face-to-face with him. 

“What?” Arthur said, Merlin’s words finally breaking into his reverie.

“I’ve asked you twice now if you want to wash up again. Where did you go? You certainly weren’t here.”

“Nowhere. ‘S nothing.” He shook his head as if to clear it, and then immediately regretted the motion. His head was pounding just as loudly as before. He pressed the heels of his hands to his temples to try to stop his head from exploding. “Merlin, why don’t these headaches go away?”

“I don’t know, but I will talk to Gaius. Meanwhile how about another dose of the pain-reliever?” Merlin fetched the bottle from the sideboard and offered a spoonful of the green liquid. Arthur took it.

There was a knock on the door, and Merlin responded, “Yes?”

“Council reports for the Prince from the King,” the voice behind the door intoned. 

Merlin grinned. “Well those should put you to sleep if the pain medicine doesn’t. Grain reports and taxation listings, no doubt, as they are your father’s favorite two subjects.”

Arthur just moaned and sank back on the bed, throwing an arm over his eyes to block out the sunlight.

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“It isn’t working, Gaius.” Merlin spoke softly through the crack in the door. “Arthur’s not getting any better. He’s not remembering anything more, other than what appears to be muscle memory, and the headaches continue to plague him. He even still has the limp from twisting his knee in the fall. That, at least, should have shown improvement by now.”

“I agree. This is very unusual.”

“It is almost like he is stuck at the same place in his recovery. Still not remembering much, still having the headaches. Neither improving nor declining.”

“I think it is time we consider other treatments.”

“What other treatments, Gaius? I thought you said there wasn’t anything else we could do but wait?”

“I can’t do much of anything, but you, Merlin, may be able to heal Arthur.” Gaius looked around furtively making sure Arthur and no one else could hear their discussion. “With your magic,” he whispered. “I think you need to consult your magic book. Have you found a good hiding place yet?”

“The best I could find is under my mattress, it is plump enough to disguise the book. And Arthur never goes in the anteroom.” 

Gaius frowned, but said, “Well I suppose it will have to do. Be careful with the book though. I’ll bring it up with an extra blanket before dinner.”

Once Arthur fell asleep that night, still tossing about from the potion-induced fever, Merlin retired to the anteroom and lit his candle with wordless magic. He pulled the latch-bound leather book out from under his mattress and began scanning through the various sections.

Amulets and Charms  
Simple Spells for Everyday Tasks   
Potions and Poultices   
Glamours   
Fascinations and Enchantment  
Magical Creatures  
Spells to Invoke Lust and Love   
Scrying  
Transfiguration  
Time Manipulation

Finally, in the ‘Fascinations and Enchantments’ section, he found a charm for forgetting things, so if he could just figure out how to reverse it, it might work. But the idea of doing magic on Arthur, more specifically on Arthur’s mind, made him very nervous. The magic book was very clear that this spell was dangerous, for it could mean permanent damage to recipient’s mind, if not done correctly. This was one spell he could not afford to mess up on the first attempt. 

His eyelids began to droop from weariness as he puzzled out how to reverse the purpose of the charm. He shook himself, splashed his face with cool water and even paced around the chamber to stay awake. In the wee hours of the night, he thought he had it worked out. He practiced the spell for another two hours, then he shoved his book under the mattress and he returned to Arthur’s chamber. It was time to try.

The prince was sprawled across his bed, stomach down, as he usually slept. He’d thrown most of the coverings off in his fevered condition. Merlin gazed at his tousled blond hair, broad shoulders and back that narrowed to his hips. He could envision himself kissing his way down Arthur’s spine to the dimples at its base, which were just exposed above the awry waistband of his sleeping trousers. Merlin mentally shook himself. ‘None of this now, I’m here to heal him, not dream about making love to him.’

He leaned over Arthur, placing one hand on his forehead and the other along his cheek. Merlin closed his eyes, summoning his magic from within himself, and from the air around him, even from the earth beneath the castle. His fingers positively thrummed with the collected power. As he felt the magic coalesce, he spoke the words he’d been practicing, “Þhurh minum gewealde ond þinum mægen, Ic þe gebéad gemyndigian, [1]” and he released his magic into Arthur’s mind. He could see and feel the golden tendrils of his magic swirl ‘round Arthur’s head and sink beneath the scalp. His head began to glow more golden than ever. Merlin could sense the magic’s delicate coils caressing Arthur’s mind and tickling at the memories hidden inside.

‘Please, this must work,’ he pleaded. After a very long minute of sustained energy flow, the golden glow began to fade from Arthur’s head. Merlin had done all he could. Releasing a sigh, he felt all the power drained from his body, leaving him weak and barely able to stand upright. The prince had not stirred. He wouldn’t know if it had worked until Arthur awoke in the morning.

Merlin, exhausted, stumbled back to the anteroom, where he practically fell into the bed, asleep as soon as he settled into the soft mattress.

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[1} Rough translation: Through my power and strength, I command you to recall the memories. 


	6. Chapter 6

Only two hours later, Arthur was shouting, “MER-lin!” from his bed. _‘Where is that worthless manservant of mine?  He’s got to be in the chambers somewhere, since we’re under quarantine.’_

Merlin dragged himself from his own warm bed and stumbled into Arthur’s bedchamber, trying to tame the wild nest that was his hair as he glanced at Arthur in the bed. “You bellowed, Sire?”

Arthur made a brief mental note that Merlin looked exhausted, with deep circles under his eyes and his face even paler than usual. He lowered his voice (not that he was doing so for Merlin’s benefit, of course), to say, “Merlin, I can remember!   I know who I am and who you are,” gesturing with his hands to point at himself and Merlin in turn.

Merlin’s face broke into a wide grin. Then he narrowed his eyes and studied Arthur carefully, asking, “And Gaius? And your father?”

Arthur, answering Merlin’s grin with his own, “Known them both since I was a babe.”

“The mind clarity medicine must have finally taken hold,” Merlin offered in explanation.

“I don’t care what did it, the medicine or the amnesia just wore off, I’m just glad to be back to normal.” He amended, “Or mostly normal.”

“What do you mean, ‘mostly normal’?”

“Just a funny tingling feeling I have.”  Arthur wasn’t sure how to describe it, but he knew he had never felt this before.

“Like a numbness?  How is your knee? And what about the headaches?”

Arthur threw back the bed covers and tentatively put his weight on his injured knee. There was no pain.  He stood and strode around the chambers.  “No pain, no numbness in the knee.  It’s fine now. No headache either. The tingling is not concentrated in any one place.  I suppose the best way to describe it is as just an overall sensation.”

“Perhaps it is a side effect Gaius failed to mention.  We should have him come to release us from the quarantine,” Merlin suggested.

“Get my breakfast first, and make it sausages and eggs today—my stomach is no longer queasy. And I think it is time for a bath. Gaius can come after that,” Arthur ordered.

Merlin set to work to fulfill Arthur’s commands while Arthur considered what he now remembered.  In addition to his memories from before the fall returning, he was still aware of what had transpired since the fall.  The fall itself and the rest of that day were fairly fuzzy however. But one particular set of memories was at the forefront of his mind--Merlin.

_‘So now I know I’m attracted to Merlin: his pale skin and long elegant fingers, sparkling blue eyes and those cheekbones.  His cheeky retorts and times of serious honesty.  All that still seems as strong as before my memories returned.  It doesn’t seem to be related to the memory loss. And now I know nothing has ever happened between us physically before. So what am I going to do about this attraction?’_ he wondered as he closely watched the raven-haired lad pull the bathtub out of its storage space. _‘Nothing, absolutely nothing,’_ he replied to himself.

Suddenly the fire that was banked in the fireplace roared with new life, the flames shooting up to the top of the firebox. _‘How odd,_ ’ Arthur thought. It settled back down quickly.

Arthur’s breakfast arrived and he tucked in. Everything tasted delicious after several days of no appetite.  As usual, the portions for the prince were large.  He intentionally left a sausage and a portion of the soft bread on the plate for Merlin to filch.

As he pushed away from the table, Merlin said, “The bath is ready. Do you want me to help undress you?” He wasn’t meeting Arthur’s eyes when he said that, and his ears looked redder than usual.

The candelabra behind Merlin lit spontaneously, the candles’ flames flaring, and then as quickly as they were lit, the candles were extinguished. Arthur knit his brows in puzzlement. But Merlin had seen nothing, with his back to the candles.  More strange happenings.

_“_ Arthur, did you hear me?”  Merlin repeated. “Do you want me to undress you?”

Arthur quickly replied, “Ah, no, I can handle it. I can perform some tasks by myself, you know.”

Merlin, grinning, rejoined, “You’ve told me that before.  Your skills just usually don’t involve clothing, but weaponry.  If you had to fight your way out of your clothes with a sword or dagger, I’m utterly convinced you could do it in seconds.  Without a weapon, I’m not so sure.”

Choosing to ignore Merlin’s insult this time, Arthur moved behind the dressing screen, and began to exchange his sleep trousers for a towel around the waist.  While he was behind the screen, he heard a crash followed by a large splash and water-sloshing sounds.

“Merlin, what happened?”

Sputtering, Merlin replied, “I-I’m not sure.” 

Arthur stood on tiptoe to look over the screen and saw his manservant, fully dressed, half-in and half-out of the tub.  His legs were upended, and the sputtering was evidently Merlin’s head emerging from underwater.

Arthur, with a laugh, crowed, “Leave it to you to stumble and fall into the bathtub.  You are such clumsy idiot, who can’t avoid tripping to save his life.”

Merlin glared back at the part of Arthur he could see over the screen--his striking blue eyes and golden hair--and said with a pout, “It wasn’t my fault this time, the rug slipped out from underneath me. See?” He pointed to the rumpled rug beside the tub.

“I don’t know.  You can lose your footing over nothing but the air quite easily; it doesn’t take a rug to trip you.  You’re soaked, you should get out of those wet clothes, and while you’re at it, you should take a bath.”

“What? I bathed in the wash basin,” Merlin protested.

“I don’t care, your stench tells me you need a full bath, so get to it.”

“Here, now?  This is your bath.”

Arthur came out from behind the dressing screen clad in just the towel, and settled comfortably in the chair by the fire.  He crossed his arms, and stared at Merlin. “Yes, it’s my bath and I’m telling you to use it. Now _.” ‘This idea was brilliant,’_ Arthur said to himself.  He had only seen Merlin naked briefly once, when they stopped to swim at the river during the summer heat. That was going to change right now.

“Arthur,” Merlin pleaded. “At least give me some privacy here.”

“Well, turn around. I’m sure if I’m not watching you, you will find some way to weasel out of bathing. But I will close my eyes and count to ten.  One – two – three...”

Merlin quickly turned away from Arthur, and promptly pulled his neckerchief off and removed his belt.  However, by the count of three, Arthur had set aside his chivalrous manners and had opened his eyes again to see Merlin lifting off his tunic and pulling off his boots.

“Four – five...” From the back, Arthur could see his lanky frame was wiry with muscles no doubt built up from lifting buckets, scrubbing floors, mucking out the stables and whatever other chores he did.

“Six – seven...” Merlin dropped his trousers and his smalls. Arthur took note of Merlin’s pert arse, and lean flanks.  His hipbones were nearly as sharp as his cheekbones. Arthur blew out a full breath. He’d better close his eyes quickly, before Merlin turned around, because as much as he didn’t want to miss anything, he really didn’t want to be caught watching.

As Arthur counted, “Eight – Nine – Ten,” he heard the splash from Merlin hastily stepping into the tub and sitting down.  Opening his eyes, he saw Merlin facing him, seated in the tub, with his face and ears bright red, and his arms folded over his chest with a determined look on his face.

Merlin accused, “You are enjoying this way too much, Arthur.”

Arthur rolled his eyes.  “It’s insufferable how much caretaking you need.”

“You, take care of me? It’s the other way ‘round.”

“Get to washing, now.  You’re my servant and I’ll have you be presentable.” Arthur responded. Merlin was right about Arthur enjoying himself too much, but the prince was not about to admit that. Merlin began washing his arms.

As he studied Merlin, he mused to himself, _‘Merlin had a bit of dark hair on his chest that partially covered an old scar that looked like it had been caused by a severe burn. How ever did he get that burn?  Some inept mishap, probably.’_

Merlin set to washing his hair, dunking underwater to wet it thoroughly, then he soaped it and dunked again to rinse. When he came back up, he glanced at Arthur.  _‘Why was Arthur’s gaze so keen?  Well that could work both ways,’_ so he stared back defiantly.  Arthur in just a towel was a banquet for Merlin’s eyes.  The expanse of skin, the shape of his muscular arms, the angle of his jaw, the curve where his neck joined his shoulder--all areas begging to be assaulted by Merlin’s mouth.  But his attention soon focused on Arthur’s pink, plump lips, always a bit chapped...lips that he longed to soothe with his tongue and suckle in between his own.

‘Keep washing,” Arthur barked. Merlin had paused in his bathing as he stared at Arthur’s form.

Merlin returned to the job at hand, washing his face, neck and shoulders.

Arthur found himself unable to stop staring at Merlin.  He drank in those marvelously sharp cheekbones, and the tightening tendons on his neck as he turned his head to get a better angle to wash his neck.  _‘What am I doing, leering at Merlin like this?  See, he’s already noticed. He’s staring back at me. He’s going to hate me for wanting him. He won’t ever be comfortable in my presence again. Oh Gods, what can I do? He’ll likely quit being my manservant and move back to Ealdor.’_

 As Arthur followed his thoughts down a sinking hole to panic over Merlin’s opinion of him, his face was carefully schooled to show no emotions after years of training by his father.  Despite that training, a brief panicked look tightened his brow and affected his eyes.

Unfortunately, Merlin saw the emotion flit across Arthur’s face. “Arthur, is something wrong?”

“No, why do you think so?” Now Arthur’s eyes were darting side to side, looking anywhere but back at Merlin.

“Just something in your face--you looked worried.’

Arthur let loose a false-sounding laugh, “What would I have to worry about? I’m the Crown Prince of Camelot.”

“The visit of a prospective bride for one, the unfinished taxation argument with your father for two, the difficulty in finding suitable knighthood candidates for three-shall I go on?” Merlin recited.

Abruptly, Arthur stood up and turned away from Merlin, walked over to the window and stared at nothing outside _. ‘Well, I’ve managed to stop staring at him, at least.’_ He shivered and it wasn’t solely from the cool air seeping in from the window.

Merlin quickly scrubbed the remainder of his body and stepped out of the tub, wrapping a towel around his waist.  Arthur was behaving very strangely this morning; something was definitely off about him.  “Come on, Arthur, now it’s your turn. The water is still warm--I was quick.” A bit of magic he chanced while Arthur’s back was turned helped keep that from being a lie.

“Alright.” Arthur strode to the tub and whipped off the towel before sinking in. 

“Do you want me to assist you, to wash your hair?”

Eyes closed, Arthur managed to exhale, “No, I’ll do it.  Go send word for Gaius to attend me.” Arthur was half-hard already, and sure he would come from just Merlin’s touch right now. Behind Merlin, the fire leapt high again.

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Arthur managed to finish his bath and get dressed himself, refusing Merlin’s assistance again, without any additional staring episodes.  Merlin was tidying the breakfast dishes--Arthur noticed he did steal the sausage and bread to eat--when a knock at the main chamber’s door was heard. “It’s Gaius, Sire. I was told you wished to see me.”

Merlin went to the door and opened it the obligatory crack. Smiling, he whispered to Gaius, “It worked! He’s remembered.”

“Oh well done, Merlin, that’s excellent,” he praised.  “No ill effects I take it?”

“Ask him about the tingling, and he is acting a bit odd.”

“Odd how?”

“Umm, well...staring at me a lot and he won’t let me perform my usual duties.” Merlin admitted with embarrassment.

Gaius narrowed his eyes and looked doubtful.  He raised his voice for the benefit of the guards, “I need to conduct a complete exam to confirm the prince’s recovery.” Then he stepped inside the room and closed the door behind him.

Approaching Arthur as he sat at the table, Gaius asked, “Your Highness, you are feeling better? You are remembering?”

“Very much so, Gaius.  All my memories seem to have returned, except those surrounding the actual fall and the rest of that day are still rather fuzzy.”

“It is not uncommon for amnesia victims to never regain the memories surrounding the actual event that resulted in the memory loss. So that is very normal.  Merlin says you’ve had some other after effects? Your limbs are tingling?”

Gaius had taken out his magnifying lens and was examining Arthur’s eyes, then he turned to probing at the slight bump still remaining at the base of Arthur’s skull.

“No, it’s not in the limbs—it is a more generalized sensation of tingling. Is it a side effect from the potions?”

Gaius frowned as he answered, “No, I’ve never heard of that as a side effect.  Anything else unusual?”

“No, just the tingling.”

Gaius looked pointedly at Merlin over Arthur’s head, and Merlin merely rolled his eyes in response. Arthur was Arthur. He wouldn’t admit to illness or weakness readily.

“I’ll research the tingling and see what I can determine.  However, I believe I can lift the quarantine now, declaring you no longer contagious.  But I want you to limit your activities for the next day or so.” Gaius continued, “No practice with the knights, but you can supervise their training activities.  You should attend the council meeting to demonstrate your wellness and dissuade any rumors of your illness being more serious than we said.”

As these directions were not to Arthur’s liking, he frowned and said, “Council meetings? I fear my headache will return.”

Merlin grinned.  “That would be normal, then Arthur. You always have a headache and are upset after council meetings.  It wouldn’t be from the amnesia or from any illness.”

“Upset? I do not get upset,” Arthur declared peevishly.

Suddenly one of the shields mounted on the overmantle of the fireplace rattled loose and fell to the floor.

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By the end of the day, Arthur was starting to worry.  After Gaius had announced the quarantine was over to the king and council, he’d been called to meet with his father privately in the audience chamber.  Uther discussed, in excruciating detail, the visit of Lord Aden and his very marriage-eligible daughter, Lady Alys.  They would be arriving tomorrow, and an elegant feast was planned for the first evening to welcome them.  A hunt for boar had been scheduled; more banquets and a jousting tournament would be held to entertain them.

While Arthur was looking forward to the tournament (of course he would be competing), the other activities would require him to host Lady Alys at the banquets: sitting beside her, cutting and serving her meat to her plate.  Engaging her in conversation about anything and everything, while saying nothing.  And of course, dancing with her.  Arthur could dance, he’d had to learn as part of his princely upbringing, but he did not enjoy it, except for the grace it lent to his ability with the sword. He usually loved hunting, but this time, he would not be able to participate fully in tracking or spearing the game.  His role instead would be to accompany the Lady Alys and protect her from any angry wayward boars.

While he was discussing these unpleasant topics with his father, he maintained a carefully neutral expression on his face.  Oddly, there were some additional ‘Incidents’ as he had come to refer to them.  As Uther repeated pointedly what Arthur’s duties would be during the feast, the fire, which had been quietly burning, flared high and crackled and popped loudly.  Arthur passed it off with a ‘must be some green wood’ comment to his father.

Then, when he was told by his father that he would be required to wear the Lady Alys’ favour during the tournament, the pikes standing on display in the corner of the chamber fell clanging to the floor. To his father he said, “A gust of wind must have blown them down,” but to himself, _‘That was no gust.  What is going on here?’_

He managed to make it through the subsequent council meeting without arguing with his father, mostly because he was concentrating on something else.  The ‘Incidents.’

First the fireplace in his room burst into full flame and then the candelabra lit and extinguished itself quickly.  Merlin was in the room then, and Arthur realized he was thinking about Merlin at the time.  Next, there was Merlin tripping over the rug and falling into the bath.  Arthur was sure the rug wasn’t rumpled before, and certainly Merlin was capable of tripping over nothing all by himself, but it could have been an ‘Incident’ too—Merlin said the rug slipped out from under him. Then there was the shield falling off the fireplace overmantle.

The two incidents with his father couldn’t have anything to do with Merlin—he wasn’t there and Arthur wasn’t thinking about his servant at the time.  Arthur was just irritated about having to play eligible bachelor to Lady Alys.  Just like he was irritated with Merlin before. 

Arthur bit his lip as he realized the common elements to the ‘Incidents’—it was him!  He was causing them somehow whenever he got angry or annoyed. But how was he doing this?  He was afraid he wouldn’t like the answer if he knew it.

Arthur returned to his chambers once the council meeting concluded, and found, for once, Merlin was not in his chambers.  He took advantage of the solitude to sit and stare at the fire and think some more about the ‘Incidents.’ Perhaps he could create them intentionally if they were related to him. He concentrated on the fireplace, willing the flames to rise...but nothing happened.  Then he tried focusing on Merlin and his idiotic ways. He tried to re-capture the irritation from this morning, but instead his mind brought up the images of Merlin undressing, of Merlin naked in the bath. Of his silly grin and funny pout when he was mad at Arthur. Of Merlin kneeling to remove his boots and looking up at him under those long lush lashes. _‘Oh gods, this is not what I wanted to bring to mind.’_

Arthur hastily came to his feet and began to pace the room. _‘All right. Stop thinking about Merlin.  Concentrate on Lady Alys and how much wooing you’ll have to do of her. Ah, that’s better—anger, irritation, annoyance.’_  And the flames rose in direct proportion to Arthur’s emotions.

Simultaneously, Arthur realised the meaning of what he had done, and Merlin burst in the chambers.

_‘I am doing MAGIC! My father will have me put to death!’_ With that thought, his eyes rolled back in his head and Arthur fell to the floor in a dead faint.

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	7. Chapter 7

Merlin entered the chambers at a near run when he realised he was late attending Arthur after the council meeting. It was bad timing to be late when Arthur was acting so oddly; no telling what Arthur would throw at his servant.  He entered the room just in time to see Arthur falling towards the floor unconscious. He magically swiped a pillow from the bed and slid it under Arthur’s blond head before it hit the floor, saving him from another crack on his already-bruised scalp.

“Arthur, what happened? Can you hear me? Wake up!” he yelled as he slid to a stop on his knees beside his prince. _’Gods, what was wrong with him now?’_

Arthur’s eyes fluttered and he moaned. He tried to sit up, but Merlin’s hands held him down. “No, stay flat. At least until we figure out what has happened to you. How do you feel?”

“Just fine,” Arthur lied. His head was with swimming with this new awareness of his magical abilities. Which instinctively he knew he must hide, if he wanted to survive in Camelot.

“Be honest with me, Arthur, what happened? ‘Just fine’ does not collapse on the floor.”

_‘Damn. Merlin’s not going to accept that lie.’_ “Well, perhaps I just overdid it today after so many days of forced bed rest.”

“Hmm. Maybe. You still know who you are and who I am?”

“Yes, of course.”  Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose, and the headache started up again.

 Merlin continued his interrogation, trying to determine Arthur’s condition and the cause of the fainting. “How did the meeting with your father go?”

“It was about Lord Aden and Lady Alys’ visit.  They arrive tomorrow. So how do you think it went? It wasn’t a pleasant subject for me,” Arthur retorted petulantly.

“Alright.  Try sitting up now, slowly.”

Arthur complied with Merlin’s directive. “Are you feeling OK now? Any dizziness?” Merlin put his hand on Arthur’s forehead checking for any sign of fever. There was none.

Arthur sighed. “I’m fine. No dizziness.”

Merlin continued, “What about the tingling? Is that still there?”

Arthur lied again.  “No, no tingling any more.  I feel normal.” Arthur thought, _‘Nothing is further from the truth.’_

“Well, I want to have Gaius look you over again when he has time.  Can you stand now?”

Arthur concentrated so he didn’t waver at all when he came to a standing position under Merlin’s critical eye.

“Did you want me to help you dress for dinner with your father?” Merlin inquired.

“Just lay out the clothes for me, I’ll dress myself.”

The scare over Arthur’s unconsciousness put Merlin on edge, and he couldn’t restrain himself any longer.  “What did I do to offend you?  Why won’t you let me do my job?” he pleaded anxiously.

“What?” was Arthur’s astonished response, not following Merlin’s thoughts at all. “What are you talking about?”

“You keep refusing my help--in dressing, in bathing.  Have I done something wrong? Are you going to fire me?” Merlin bit his lower lip nervously.  Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything to Arthur, but as usual, he didn’t think before his emotions had him speak out.

Gazing at Merlin’s worried expression, Arthur realised what he’d done in refusing Merlin’s assistance to avoid the touching that was distracting him. He’d left Merlin with the impression he no longer wanted him as a manservant. Arthur closed his eyes and pursed his lips as he considered how best to fix the situation.

Maybe it was guilt, maybe it was the uncertainty generated by his other magical secret, but Arthur decided to be truthful and prayed it wouldn’t ruin his friendship with Merlin. He opened his eyes and stared back at Merlin’s face. It still held a puzzled expression and his brow was furrowed as he met Arthur’s gaze.  He watched carefully for Merlin’s reaction.

“No, no, it is nothing you have done.  It’s not your fault. It’s my problem, not yours. I still want you as my manservant...if you still want to continue as such.”

Merlin’s frown of confusion deepened. “What do you mean? What’s your problem?”

_“Damn, Merlin is going to make me explain further.”_ Arthur continued, “Ah, well...it seems...that you touching me has become something of a, uhm...a physical distraction.”

Still confused, Merlin frowned and repeated slowly, “A physical distraction...what does that mean?”

Arthur sighed.  “You know...” He gestured weakly between their bodies and willed Merlin to understand without him having to explain more explicitly.

“O-oh, that.” Merlin got it.

Arthur turned away from Merlin to stare out the window and continued with, “Of course I’ll understand if you’d prefer to have your duties curtailed or re-assigned entirely. If you want to stay in Camelot at all, that is.”

“What are you talking about, you idiot? Of course I’m staying in Camelot and I’ll continue to be your manservant.”

The relief was evident as the tension eased in Arthur’s shoulders. Merlin stepped forward until he was directly behind Arthur at the window, looking over his shoulder, and he continued softly, “Didn’t it occur to you to ask for some help with that ‘physical distraction’?”

“No. What? You would? I thought you’d be...disgusted.” Arthur looked at Merlin’s reflection in the window and saw how wrong he was.

Wrapping Arthur in his arms, Merlin whispered in Arthur’s ear, “Arthur, I’ve been attracted to you since I first met you.  I just never guessed you would ever have any feelings for me.”

Merlin felt Arthur stiffen in his arms, and thought he must have said something wrong.  Arthur had not said anything about feelings, so maybe this was only a physical attraction.  Perhaps he had presumed too much. He immediately decided he would take whatever Arthur would give him, emotionally or just physically. He released Arthur from his grip and said, “Maybe this isn’t what you want...”

“No, yes, I mean, I want this with you, I just have never...well, not with a man,” Arthur replied nervously.  He had turned to face Merlin and Merlin could see the blush rising in his face.

“You’ve been with women, yes?”

“Yes, of course.”

“And you’ve pleasured yourself I expect. It’s not all that different.”

“Yes, All right.” Arthur took a deep breath and squared his shoulders in front of Merlin.

Merlin admonished, “Relax, you look like you are about to head into battle. This will be pleasurable, I promise.”

“So where...how do we start? Arthur mumbled.

Merlin held open his arms, with a wide cheeky grin on his face, and said, “C’mere you prat.”

Arthur moved forward into Merlin’s embrace and automatically replied, ‘Idiot.’

As Merlin had wanted to do since forever, he started kissing Arthur’s succulent mouth, pressing soft kisses at the corner of his lips. Arthur readily parted his lips, and he sucked Merlin’s top lip between his own. This gave Merlin a good opportunity to soothe Arthur’s chapped lower lip with his tongue, using gentle strokes.  Then a harder, needier sensation came to their lips and their tongues started twisting ‘round each other. Now Arthur was taking possession of Merlin’s mouth, from the roof, around the teeth and under the tongue.  At last they pulled away from each other for air.

Merlin cupped Arthur’s jaw and ran his thumb over Arthur’s bruised lips. The lips then pulled the thumb into Arthur’s mouth and he sucked it.

Merlin shivered with the sensations and blew out a breath.  “Whew, that was...amazing.” With a glint in his eyes, he asked, “Will you let me undress you now?”

“I’ll put you in the stocks for a week if you don’t.” Arthur rejoined, only half joking.

Merlin slid Arthur’s leather vest off his shoulders slowly, as Arthur faced him.  He set the vest aside, and then he unbuckled and removed Arthur’s belt.  Merlin guided Arthur over to the bed, saying, “Sit down so I can remove your boots and socks.”

As Merlin knelt before Arthur, Arthur couldn’t help remembering the image of Merlin in that same position with his raven head bowed that kept haunting him. “I could remember seeing you when I couldn’t remember anything else, you know.” Arthur offered quietly.

Merlin looked up at him as he pulled off the first boot. “You did? Why didn’t you tell me?”

_‘Because I didn’t know what it meant at first, and when I did, I was terrified you’d hate me,’_ Arthur said to himself, but to Merlin, he just shrugged and said, “Don’t know.”

Merlin studied his face a bit longer than necessary. _‘He knows I’m not telling the whole truth,’_ Arthur thought _._ But Merlin seemed not to want to question any further, and when he finished with the second boot and sock, he motioned Arthur to stand.

Merlin and Arthur stood closely, face to face. They made a stunning contrast, one so pale-skinned and dark-haired and the other all golden and light. They were about the same height, Merlin perhaps only a quarter hand taller.

Merlin reached for the hem of Arthur’s Pendragon-red tunic and raised it, lifting it over Arthur’s head. He then reached out to the broad expanse of his shoulders and ran his hands over Arthur’s shoulders and down his arms with feather-light touches. Arthur reached his own hands up to Merlin’s neck and tugged on his scarf. “You are wearing far too many clothes. We need to do something about that.” Arthur pulled the scarf over Merlin’s head without even trying to unknot it, tousling Merlin’s hair.  He cast off Merlin’s belt, and lifted his tunic to expose his chest.  The tunic was tossed aside and Arthur began exploring Merlin’s skin with his fingers.

He gently touched the angry red puckered skin at the center of Merlin’s chest, “Is this a burn? What happened?”

Merlin squirmed away from his touch slightly, and said, “Yes, it was a long time ago.”

Arthur leaned close and placed gentle kisses on the burn. He looked up into Merlin’s face, “You don’t have to be embarrassed.  Everything you are is beautiful to me.”

Merlin closed his eyes, as tears threatened to leak from them. Tears of joy. _‘I never would have believed this would happen with Arthur.  Maybe he **will** understand about my magic when I tell him.’_

Merlin leaned his forehead against Arthur’s, and whispered, ‘Thank you Arthur.’  His hands reached for the laces to undo Arthur’s trousers, and once loosened, Arthur’s stiff cock leapt out as Merlin pushed the trousers and the smallclothes down and Arthur stepped out of them. ‘You know you’re gorgeous, so I won’t tell you that again. Your head is already too big.” Under his breath, Arthur still heard Merlin concluding, “But you are.”

Arthur laughed even as his breath hitched. “Insults and complements in the same breath. Only you Merlin, only you. And again you are wearing more clothes than I am.  Let’s get you naked and get in bed.”

Merlin shucked his trousers and smalls immediately and followed Arthur to his bed.  Arthur lay down and open his arms for Merlin.  Merlin felt like he was home when he settled into Arthur’s embrace.

Merlin resumed his assault on Arthur’s mouth but expanded it to include spreading kisses down his jaw, and then he sucked his way down the tendons in Arthur’s neck. Arthur meanwhile was stroking Merlin’s back with his hands, moving them slowly in soft circular caresses.

When Merlin reached the juncture of Arthur’s neck and shoulder, he couldn’t resist a quick bite, and then he soothed the mark with his kisses.  Moving lower on Arthur’s chest, he fingered Arthur’s nipples and was surprised at the wonderful gasping sounds Arthur made. “You like that? Your nipples are sensitive.”  He kissed one nipple, then licked it and tugged on it lightly with his teeth.  Now Arthur was making keening sounds that were a delight to Merlin’s ears as Arthur clung tightly to Merlin’s shoulders.  Merlin shifted his position on the bed to gain better access to Arthur’s other nipple to treat it similarly.  In the new position, his cock, hard and leaking pre-come, was firmly pressed against Arthur’s thigh.  He thrust against Arthur several times. With some urgency, he asked Arthur, “Do you have any oil?”

Arthur reached across to the drawer of his nightstand and offered Merlin the small pot of oil he used when pleasuring himself.  Merlin poured some on his hands and ran his hands from the base to the tip of his cock, slicking it well.  He then reached for Arthur’s cock, which was slightly shorter than his own but thicker, and oiled it up as well. Then he fisted both his own and Arthur’s cocks in his hands and set to a rhythm of firm and fast strokes. He added the little twist of the wrist at the head that he knew he liked and hoped Arthur liked it too.

“Is this good, Arthur?”

Arthur’s eyes were closed but his mouth was open, gasping small breaths and his body was bucking in time with Merlin’s strokes. He tried to steady himself by holding onto Merlin’s hip with one hand while he fisted the sheet with the other.

“Yes, don’t stop... don’t you dare stop...I’m close...”

With just a few more strokes, Arthur stiffened and he came in spurts of white over Merlin’s hands and both their stomachs. It took only two more strokes for Merlin to join him in a shuddering release.  Unexpectedly, the candles above the bed’s headboard flared high and the curtains and canopy were licked with flames.  Smoke was curling up above the bed as the bed linens smoldered and caught fire.

Merlin and Arthur shook their heads to clear them as best they could after their orgasms, and it was Merlin who moved out of bed first, to grab the washbasin of water and douse the curtains.  When Arthur added the pitcher of cider on the canopy, the fire sizzled out completely.

Both were somewhat stunned and stood still, beside the bed, fully naked. Arthur spoke first, “What happened?”

Merlin responded, “The curtain caught fire.” Arthur abruptly whacked him on the back of the head with his hand.

“I know that, you idiot! **Why** did it catch fire?”

“Erm, a gust blew the candles higher?” Merlin offered aloud, while he wondered to himself, _‘Will Arthur accept that? It must have been my magic responding to coming with Arthur.’_

Arthur wasn’t about to disagree with Merlin’s flimsy explanation, as he thought _‘Oh Gods, I must have done this with my magic, reacting to my climax with Merlin.’_

“Ah, yes. Well, I’d best get dressed for dinner with the King now.”

 


	8. Chapter 8

Arthur tried very hard to keep a check on his annoyance level during dinner, but there was only so much a man can do under the severity of one of Uther's diatribes.  The 'Incident' was minor, just the cups of mead tipping over on the table that he managed to brush off as his own clumsiness. Unfortunately Merlin and the other servers had already been dismissed before the mead was spilled so Uther could continue his afternoon’s lecture with his son privately. More admonitions to be on his best behavior to Lady Alys, the political value of the land of Lord Aden, and how well Camelot would be positioned with Aden as an ally--all resulting in Arthur’s temper rising to the point of the mead spilling. 

 If Merlin had still been present, he could have blamed Merlin's perpetual awkwardness for the spill.  On the other hand, it was in a way lucky that Merlin wasn’t there, as he was entirely too perceptive at times, and might have picked up on Arthur's magic. Arthur didn’t understand as he’d never trained in magic, and didn’t know any spells. All he’d learned to do is how to recognize magic when he saw, and he was certainly seeing it now!

As Arthur returned to his chambers after the dinner and lecture concluded, his thoughts turned to what would happen if it became known he could do magic. _'Gods, what would Father do if he knew I was doing magic right under his own roof?  Pick up his sword and behead me straight away? Or throw me in the dungeon while they built the wooden bonfire and then torture me to name nonexistent accomplices?  Would I be dragged, bound in chains, to the pyre? Then the King would proclaim me guilty of sorcery and the burning torch would ignite the kindling.  I can hear the burning wood crackle, feel the heat growing, smell the smoke filling my nostrils...'_

Arthur's distracted walking came to a sudden halt as he ran out of hallway and found himself face-to-face with the door to his own chambers _._ The vivid images lingered within him as he struggled to get his emotions under control.  The magic certainly seemed related to his emotional state—anger, annoyance or even the ecstasy with Merlin. The last thing he needed now was a magical fire from his emotions what with Merlin likely waiting for him on the other side of the door.

  _‘Or would he be waiting?’_ After the curtain fire was extinguished, they had not said anything to each other about what happened between them.  Arthur was in a hurry to avoid being late to dinner (Uther hated tardiness). Merlin pulled on his clothes quickly and immediately left to fetch more water for washing up and when he returned, Arthur dressed himself without Merlin even offering to help.  The servant had turned his attention to taking down the burnt curtains and straightening the bedclothes. 

_How would this sexual attraction change our relationship? And I know that is all it is, just a physical attraction and nothing more for Merlin.’_ He shook his head to quiet his whirling thoughts, and braced himself to enter his chambers.

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Gaius was waiting, seated in the chair by the fireplace.  He stood when Arthur entered the room, bowing his head slightly. “Sire.” 

Merlin was there, nervously wiping the dining table that was already clean.

“Gaius, what are you doing here? Is something wrong?”

“I understand you fainted today, Sire.  Are you feeling alright?”

Arthur protested, “I did not faint.”

“You passed out,” Merlin retorted.

“Perhaps I lost consciousness for a few seconds,” Arthur conceded.

“Come sit here,” said Gaius as he stood and offered the seat to Arthur, “and I’ll check you over.” 

_‘Gaius is the only person in Camelot who knows much about magic—rumors say he used to dabble in it himself before the Purge.  Should I tell him what is happening to me?”_ Arthur pondered.

Gaius looked at Arthur’s face and saw the worry and the tension in his shoulders.  Something was bothering him.  “Lean forward so I can see the back of your head more easily.  The bump is much smaller but I can still feel it.  How has your vision been Arthur?” the physician inquired.

“No problems.”

“No dizziness, no loss of balance?”

“No, nothing like that.”

“What about that tingling you mentioned this morning? Anything else unusual?”

No this wasn’t the time to say anything to Gaius about his magic. That tingling must be related to the magic, it started the same time as the ‘Incidents’, once his memories returned.  Best tosay nothing about it still being there.He replied to Gaius, “The tingling has gone away.  Everything is normal.”

“What were you doing when you passed out?”

“Nothing really, just standing in front of the fireplace, warming myself.  I’d just returned from the council meeting.”

“Mmm.  Perhaps you did overdo it for the first day out of quarantine.  I want you to take it easy tomorrow and restrict your activities even more.”

“But I was already taking it easy,” Arthur protested, his face falling. “And Father will have me in the stocks if I don’t host Lady Alys at the banquet tomorrow night.”

Merlin offered, “But you can skip the council meeting tomorrow.  That’s good, right?”

Gaius chuckled at Arthur’s quick grin at the thought of avoiding another boring meeting, “Since tomorrow’s guests will no doubt make for a stressful day and evening for you Arthur, you must get a good night’s rest. Here take this now.” Gaius presented a small bottle of liquid to Arthur, who tossed it back and pulled a face.

“As foul-tasting as always, Gaius.  Why don’t you ever have pleasant-tasting medicines?

Gaius smiled, “But then they wouldn’t taste medicinal and I’d have people demanding them all the time.”

Arthur blinked and shook his already fuzzy head.  “This one is fast acting, isn’t it?”

“Yes, I forgot to mention that.  Merlin, help me put him in bed.”

Merlin sighed and complied. There went any chance of talking to Arthur about their relationship tonight. It would have to wait until tomorrow.

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The Lady Alys and her entourage arrived the next afternoon, with her father, Lord Aden.  That entourage included her personal secretary, her maid and her own chef.  Uther was at his most charming, beaming at the visitors from the steps of the citadel as they rode into the courtyard.  Arthur stood beside him, nodding politely to Lord Aden and moving forward to help Lady Alys down from her palfrey.  “Prince Arthur, I am so pleased to meet you.”  The words sounded right but Arthur could tell she wasn’t really interested. She was a pretty girl, with long dark brown hair done in a braid for travelling, wide-set grey eyes, and her nose was a bit too long for perfect beauty. But it was her eyes that were most telling as there was not a speck of warmth in them.  Just cold flinty grey that belied the smile on her lips.

Arthur and Merlin escorted the Lady Alys and her retinue to the suite of guest chambers in the east wing. Arthur, on his best host behavior offered Merlin’s services should they need some assistance, never really imagining that Lady Alys would accept, since she had brought her own servants.

“How generous, Your Highness, to offer us your personal manservant.  Boy, please fetch up the trunks so I may dress for dinner. And please show my chef to the kitchens.”     

Merlin bowed low, and spoke softly “Of course, m’Lady, it is my pleasure.”  Arthur arched a brow at that.  Merlin really did know how to behave as a perfect royal servant, when it suited him.  For the sake of keeping Lady Alys happy, he was glad it was now.

Merlin took the chef down to the kitchens, thinking this was not going to be a pleasant encounter when Cook met Chef. He was right; there was much shouting and flinging about of soup ladles and stirring spoons. At least no knives were involved. Finally the chef was grudgingly granted a small corner of his own in the kitchen and Merlin could return to take the Lady’s wardrobe trunks up to her chambers.   

_‘_ _Who could imagine dresses could weigh so much?  And how many dresses were needed for a week’s visit—maybe she planned to stay longer?’_   Merlin frowned at that thought, knowing Arthur was tense and irritable and supposed it could only get worse the longer Lady Alys and her father remained in Camelot.

Luckily, he was able to turn the trunks over to Lady Alys’ maid and avoid getting any further chores assigned as the Lady was resting from her strenuous journey.  He turned his attention back to Arthur as he walked back to the other wing of the castle.

He and Arthur had not spoken yet about their new relationship.  When he woke Arthur that morning he was already grumpy and stressed and that didn’t bode well for any serious conversation.  So when Merlin laid out his clothes, Arthur dressed himself without Merlin making any offer to help. Arthur wriggled into his chainmail hauberk without help as well and brushed off the offer of the additional armour with a curt, “I don’t need it today-I’m only supervising training, remember? Taking it easy. Per Gaius’ orders.”

The entire castle was hectic with preparation for the guests: linens being aired, final sweeping of the floors, inspection by the steward, even the stables were cleaner than usual with extra fresh straw.  Merlin pitched in to help where he could with dusting in the guest chambers, folding the cleanly laundered linens, plumping the feather bed pillows.  He delivered a lunch of cold meats and fruits and still-warm-from-the-oven bread, with some cider to Arthur’s room at mid-day, but Arthur wasn’t there.  He covered the bread in a futile attempt to keep it warm, and left the food for Arthur.

As he tended to his own chores for Arthur (laundry and mending—but the burnt curtains would have to be replaced entirely) in the afternoon, he kept an eye out for Arthur, not sure where he was.  Training was over, the knights and knights-to-be had left the practice grounds.  He quietly asked the friendlier guards that he knew personally if they’d seen the Prince since morning, and all replies were in the negative.  He checked the stables, as Arthur often liked to visit his horses, bringing them apples or carrots.  No sign he had been there.  He checked the library, asking Sir Geoffrey, and was told the Prince had not visited the library since before the quarantine.

At last he climbed the endless steps up to the highest battlements where the view was the best, and found Arthur in a pensive mood, leaning against the wall in a crenel, staring out toward the expanse of fields and forests of Camelot, but seeing nothing of the view.

“Arthur,” Merlin spoke quietly as not to startle him as he came up from behind.

“Merlin,” he replied without turning around. He’d been thinking about his magical abilities, about Merlin and about Lady Alys and his father.  All rather muddled and he sighed, thinking at least Merlin was a distraction from his thoughts.  But then he reminded himself that Merlin was one of his puzzling thoughts.

“Are you all right, Arthur?” Merlin spoke quietly as if not to scare off a frightened animal.

Arthur replied automatically, “I’m fine.”

“What are you doing up here?”

“I come up here when I have a lot to think about.”

“Careful, too much of that thinking, and you might hurt yourself,” Merlin retorted, trying to lighten Arthur’s mood.

Arthur turned around and glared at Merlin and said nothing.

_‘Well that didn’t work.  Might as well ask him now, he’s certainly in a serious mood.’_ Merlin pulled a deep breath and asked, “Arthur, we should talk.”

“Isn’t that what we are doing now?” Arthur returned with a touch of a smile in the corner of his mouth.

“About us, I mean. What happened yesterday.”

“What about it?” Arthur said tentatively.  He wasn’t being helpful at all, not willing to speak of his feelings.

“Well, what did it mean to you? I enjoyed it immensely, because it was with you.” He was going to have to lead Arthur, with his tightly-wrapped emotions, through this.

Arthur was now fiddling with the ring on his index finger and staring at it, instead of meeting Merlin’s steady gaze. “Me too,” he exhaled quietly.

Merlin took another step closer to Arthur, and took his chin in his hand, lifting Arthur’s head until his blue eyes met Merlin’s. “So what are we going to do now?” Merlin spoke barely above a whisper to his prince.

Arthur’s eyes widened, almost in panic.  “I...I...don’t want to ruin anything.”

“What do you fear would be ruined?

“That our relationship will change.  That you’ll feel pressured into doing things you don’t want to do, just because you’re my servant.  That I won’t be able to give you what you need.  I know I’m not very good at expressing my feelings much, and there’s the issue that I will have to marry to have heirs.” Arthur’s speech sped up as he revealed much more than he had planned.

_‘Once Arthur starts talking, he keeps going.’_ Merlin let loose a whoosh of air.  “Whoa there.  Let’s take it slower and talk this through. You said our relationship would change-well I hope so, for the better.  We’ll be closer. I have no doubt, however, that some things won’t change: you’ll continue to be an arrogant prat, of course.”

Arthur frowned, not convinced yet.  “Will you still be honest with me, and tell me what I need to hear, not what I might want to hear?”

‘Of course, probably even more than before.” Merlin ignored the niggling thought, _‘Honesty I promise him, but I’m living a lie by hiding my magic from him.  I have to tell him if this relationship is to work...and soon.’_ He chewed on his bottom lip, but the fear that Arthur would hate him or banish him when he found out overwhelmed him like always and he buried his confession yet again.

Merlin returned to another point from Arthur’s rush of words. “You can’t seriously think I would do something I didn’t want to, just because you told me to?  I never do what you tell me too. Believe me, I want this, and it’s between Arthur and Merlin, not Prince and servant.” He saw Arthur looked into his face, seeking reassurance, then he nodded briefly, acknowledging the truth of Merlin’s words.

Merlin continued striking down Arthur’s points one-by-one. “So what makes you think you can’t meet my needs?”

Arthur returned his eyes to the distant horizon, presenting his back to Merlin and spoke softly, “I don’t express my emotions like you do.  You’ll want me to.”

Merlin smiled, but Arthur didn’t see it.  He snuck his arms around Arthur from behind and rested his chin on Arthur’s cloaked shoulder. “You’d be amazed how well I can read you even when you think you aren’t expressing anything but a blank face.  I know the telltale signs--how your eyes crinkle when you’re teasing, how you worry your bottom lip when you aren’t sure what to say, the flash of anger that shows in a twitch in your grip.  You are an open book to me, Arthur Pendragon, I don’t think you need to worry on that count.”  Arthur still shifted uneasily in Merlin’s embrace, so Merlin asked, “What else is bothering you?”

“What does this mean to you, Merlin, this change in our relationship?”

“What do you mean?”

“Is this just a physical attraction or something more?”  Arthur was carefully neutral so Merlin had to put all his Arthur-reading skills to work. This was the big question. It still wasn’t clear to him what Arthur was wanting.  He didn’t want to destroy what they had so far, but his guilt over his other secret meant he needed to be truthful on this point with Arthur.

“I won’t lie to you on this, Arthur.  For me, this is more than physical.  You are everything to me. But if all you want is a physical relationship, I won’t push you for more, I promise.” More than anything, Merlin hoped he wouldn’t have to follow through on that promise; he wasn’t sure he could. But he would try if he had to.

The silence stretched out almost unbearably long for Merlin, waiting for Arthur’s reaction. Arthur used the time to come to a decision, and turned in Merlin’s embrace to face him.  He looked long into Merlin’s deep blue eyes to reassure himself the decision was the right one, the only one he could make. The truth. “Merlin, I…I want more than just the sex.  I want to share my life with you and share in yours.” 

With that admission, Arthur pulled Merlin toward him with a hand behind his neck, and pressed a fierce, longing kiss to his lips.  Merlin responded in kind, parting Arthur’s lips easily, his tongue dancing with Arthur’s.

When more air was needed for breathing, they parted just a few inches, and Arthur laid his head on Merlin’s shoulder and asked, “Come to my room tonight? After the banquet?”

Merlin cracked that cheeky grin of his. “You just try and stop me.”

  
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	9. Chapter 9

Yet again, Arthur found his eyes following Merlin around the banquet hall as he poured wine for the high table.  He was dressed in the official Camelot servant’s livery, including the obnoxious feathered hat.  But he didn’t look ridiculous to Arthur, only sweet and funny, as Merlin kept blowing the feathers away from his face.  Arthur had been sneaking glances at his manservant whenever he could pull away from Lady Alys, who had been clinging to his arm most of the evening.

Merlin, for his part, had been keeping his own eyes on Arthur and knew Arthur was watching him. He poured wine for Lord Aden, who had slammed his empty cup down with a bang demanding a refill, acting as if he were royalty instead of a noble of a small but well-positioned estate. Although with the attention Uther was giving him, he probably was justified in his attitude.

Merlin had come around to Arthur’s place at the table, and elbowed the prince.

“What?” Arthur hissed out of the corner of his mouth.

Merlin nodded to the roast pheasant on the table, and whispered “You need to serve Lady Alys.”

“I will, I will.  How about some more wine so I can get through this horrible evening?”

Merlin eyed the prince critically.  “You’ve already had enough. You’re going to regret this in the morning.  I’ll get the watered wine and save you from yourself.”

Arthur made a disgruntled snort and turned back to Lady Alys seated at his side. 

“Uther, you must admit they make a good pair.” Lord Aden nodded over at Arthur and Alys, as Arthur bent his head to hear what Lady Alys had said.  Arthur was wearing a dark blue velvet jacket that picked up the blue of his eyes and contrasted strongly with his golden hair and tanned face.  Lady Alys had chosen to wear a revealing dress of Pendragon-red silk with golden embroidery accentuating the low-cut neck and small waist. She didn’t want there to be any question of her suitability to reign as Princess and ultimately Queen of Camelot—she certainly looked the part.  Despite the stunning image Lady Alys made, Arthur only briefly glanced her way when she spoke to him. 

Uther responded to Aden, “Yes of course.  Tell me again how difficult the terrain is around the pass from your lands to Toris.”  Aden launched into his description of the suitability of the pass for both defense and to stage an offensive thrust into the Torisian lands.

Lady Alys tried to engage Arthur into conversation again. This time she tried a topic men generally were interested in—hunting. “Tell me Arthur about the hunt.  What sort of beast will we be after?”

Arthur used his eating knife to cut a portion off the pheasant breast and placed it on Lady Alys’ plate.  “M’Lady, some pheasant for you.”

As she murmured her thanks, she realized Arthur was saying, “A bore.”

She cleared her throat and managed to choke out, “Beg pardon, Your Highness?”

“We’ll be hunting a boar, an old sow with some piglets that the huntsman has seen.  They are the most dangerous beasts of all—a mother protecting its young.”

Relieved that Arthur hadn’t been declaring her boring, as she first thought, she only managed a stilted titter in response.  Arthur wasn’t paying attention to her, so she turned to her left to Uther and fluttered her grey eyes at him.

“Tell me, Your Highness, how have the crops been in Camelot this year?  Will the harvest be good?”

She’d done her research well, and had brought up one of Uther’s favorite topics, his kingdom‘s grain production. The King began to explain the harvesting centres and regional mills.  Lady Alys only half-listened, murmuring low ‘uh-huh’s and ‘of course’s whenever Uther paused for breath.

As Uther droned on, she signaled for more wine and Merlin responded quickly.  “Boy, my cup is empty, you should have refilled it earlier,” Alys chided him in a very superior tone.

Merlin began pouring the wine and saying quietly, “So sorry, m’Lady.”  As the goblet filled with liquid, it suddenly fell over, and a berry red flood ran across the table towards Lady Alys.  She jumped up shrieking, but too late--the silk dress was stained. “You imbecile, my dress is ruined!  You stupid idiot! Arthur, you must punish him.”

Arthur was trying hard to avoid Lady Alys’ glare, as he realised he had become irritated at how both Alys and her father were addressing Merlin, and must have tipped the goblet over with his emotionally-driven magic. It was his fault and Merlin was being blamed.  He tried to sooth Lady Alys.  “Now m’Lady, this was just an unfortunate accident. I’m sure Merlin’s clumsiness was unintentional.”

“No, Arthur, he was glaring at me earlier.  He did it on purpose, I know.  You really must make sure your servants know their place.  He must be punished for his arrogance. Our servants at home would be punished with the lash for such contempt. It is the only way they learn the proper humility.”

Now Uther was taking notice of the commotion, and asked, “Arthur, what has your boy done?”

“Nothing, Father, it was just an accident and the wine spilled.” This was escalating badly if Uther was getting involved.

Merlin at this point wished he could disappear.  He wasn’t sure what he done to spill the wine goblet, but it was causing much more attention for himself than he liked. Arthur, and now the King, were right in the middle of the ruckus.  Nothing good would come of this.

Uther, showing his favour to Aden and Alys, turned to Arthur with a commanding tone said, “Arthur, you must discipline your servant. He’s yours, so you must decide the punishment, but he must be punished.”

_’I can’t get away with letting Merlin off with just a stern lecture, not now that Father is involved.  Merlin’s going to hate me for this, and I know it wasn’t his fault.’_ Arthur continued out loud, “The stocks. For the full day tomorrow.  Merlin, use the time to think on how best to reform your clumsy, disobedient ways.” 

Merlin’s mouth dropped open in astonishment at Arthur’s prescribed punishment. While the stocks were better than the lash, it had been just an accident.  Merlin wondered how Arthur could do this to him.

The ‘Incident’ (for that is what it was) brought an early conclusion to the meal. With Lady Alys upset over her dress, Lord Aden murmured soothing tones and escorted her back to her chambers.  Uther turned on Arthur and Merlin then.  “How could you allow this to happen, Arthur?  You know how important this alliance with Lord Aden and his daughter is for Camelot!  You can’t be upsetting them like this, “And you,” turning to glare at Merlin, “I want you out of my sight immediately.”

Merlin bowed deeply and beat a hasty retreat out of the banquet hall, leaving Arthur to withstand his father’s continued criticism alone.

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Arthur had already had drunk more wine than he should have when the goblet spilling ‘Incident’ occurred, but that did not deter him from taking a flagon of wine with him back to his chambers once his father dismissed him.  His father’s disapproval and disappointment always sat heavily on his shoulders, so he concluded more wine was just what he needed to forget the feelings of inadequacy and failure.

He was singing bits of a bawdy Mercian tavern song the knights had taught him as he swung into his chambers.  “Merl’n, wha’ cha doin’ here?”

Merlin raised an eyebrow (he must have learnt that from Gaius) and folded his arms while leaning against the wooden table. “Well, I had an invitation, m’Lord,” drawing out the title sarcastically. ”If you can remember back to this afternoon.”

“Hmm?” Arthur’s wine-soaked mind tried to recall. “Yes…you did…I did…we were…” He plunked the flagon on the table and with an exclamation of ‘ooph’ he slid into the chair. He took another swig of wine straight from the flagon, and when Merlin tried to grab it from him, he evaded Merlin’s grasping hands. “No, no. It’s mine.”

“Arthur, you are soused.  You shouldn’t have any more wine.”

“No, I’m drinkin’ t’forget how w’rthless I am and how I dis’ppoint my father.” Arthur got overly emotional and talkative when he was intoxicated. With sadness evident in his face, he looked at Merlin and hiccuped.  Merlin shook his head, partly at Arthur’s drunkenness but more so at his dependence on his father’s opinion..

“Arthur, listen to me. You aren’t worthless.  You may not always agree with your father, but you are not a failure. You are a good man and will make a great king.  Your father is proud of the son he has raised, for the most part. He just isn’t very good at showing it or telling you when he is pleased.”  While Arthur seemed to consider Merlin’s words, Merlin was able to sneak behind the chair.  He reached around Arthur, and snatched up the flagon.

“No, my wine!” Arthur protested, but he only clutched at air in his attempt to retrieve the flagon.   The quick movement made him dizzy, so he laid his head down on the table.  There was a loud pounding starting inside his skull.

“Time to get you to bed, Sire.”  Merlin wrestled him upright in the chair and began unbuttoning the blue velvet jacket.  Helping Arthur slide his arms out of the coat, he then pulled the hem of the tunic up and over Arthur’s head.

While the tunic was still around his head, Arthur spoke, “Merlin, you’re undressin’ me.”  The words were muffled and slurred but Merlin heard them.

“Yes, I am, Arthur. It’s time for bed.”

Head unencumbered by the cloth of the tunic now, Arthur continued, “Good. You need t’ undress too.”

“No, not now, not tonight.  You’re too inebriated. Sit still and I’ll get your boots off.” Arthur was a compliant drunk and stuck each leg out in turn for Merlin.

Merlin supported Arthur as he stood him up. While Arthur draped one arm over Merlin’s shoulders, Merlin helped him change into his sleep clothes as quickly as he could. Then he gently herded Arthur to the bed, and as the woozy prince sat, he slid sideways and his head hit the pillows. Merlin tucked in his legs and pulled the bed coverings up over him.

“Merlin, stay wi’f me.” Arthur pleaded, speaking softly not to enrage the pounding in his head any further. Merlin sighed and looked at Arthur, golden hair already mussed up, eyes glazed over as he tried to focus on Merlin’s face. “Just for a little while.” He stretched out on top of the bed coverings on the opposite side of the bed and rested his eyes.

Merlin awoke after about an hour.  Arthur was soundly asleep, snoring into the pillow he clutched to his chest, so Merlin headed back to his own room.  Gaius would worry if he was not in his bed when daybreak came.  And that day would bring the stocks for Merlin.

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Merlin woke Arthur up as late as he could and still get him on time to the outing with the King and their guests.  Arthur might be a compliant drunk, but the aftereffects of drinking too much turned him into an irritable, surly grouch the morning after.

“Time to get up, Your Pratliness.”

“Mmmrph,” was the only sound from the mound of bedclothes. Then a raspy, “Go ‘way.”

“You need to get ready for the tour with your father, Lord Aden and Lady Alys.” He started pulling on the blankets, uncovering Arthur who started pulling back and tossing pillows at Merlin. 

Merlin dodged the pillows easily (Arthur’s aim wasn’t the best after a night of drinking), and continued, ”I’ve brought one of Gaius’ hangover remedies, and the knights swear it really works.”  He handed it to the prince who looked doubtfully at the garish green sludge and tossed it back quickly.  Arthur croaked immediately, “Water!” and Merlin was ready with a goblet.

After a quick wash at the basin, Arthur was starting to feel more human. Merlin helped him don his clothes as quickly as possible, cautious to barely touch Arthur, even though in Arthur’s present condition, he really didn’t expect there to be a problem.

Once Arthur was on his way down to the stables, Merlin sighed to himself and headed to the courtyard to the stocks.  At least it wasn’t raining, and he could hope the fruits and vegetables were mostly rotten and soft today.

When Arthur arrived in the courtyard, he found that Uther, Lord Aden and Lady Alys and a handful of knights were all mounted and waiting expectantly for him.  He quickly took the reins from the stable lad and swung into the saddle, mouthing a silent apology to his father.

King Uther flared his nostrils at Arthur’s lateness and didn’t acknowledge the apology.  He turned to his guests, “You are in for a treat today.  We’ll be riding down to Caerdore to see the central regional harvesting centre and view the mill and grain storage.”

Arthur rubbed his forehead to coax the pounding to lessen.  It was going to be a long day.

Later in the afternoon, the tour completed and all but Uther utterly bored of talk of harvesting and milling and grain yield, they returned to the citadel, passing by the stocks.  Merlin was still locked in the restraints and the evidence of rotten tomatoes (and was that peaches?) was clear on his head and clothes _._ It looked like the townspeople had had good aim today.  Merlin raised his head as much as he could in his stooped position and gave Arthur a quick glare but dropped his eyes as the King, Lord Aden and Lady Alys passed by.  Lady Alys asked in a sickly sweet voice, “Once he is out of the stocks, could Merlin come help with some chores? My servants, I’m afraid, have become unwell.”

Arthur opened his mouth, but before he could compose an excuse to decline offering Merlin’s services, the King proclaimed, “Of course, anything you require Lady Alys.  Merwin, attend to Lady Alys once you’re released.”

_‘Merlin will just have to bear it; there’s nothing else to do once Father has given a direct order.”_ Arthur twisted in the saddle to look back at Merlin and communicate his apology in his eyes.  Merlin was still staring at the ground and didn’t see.

Using the excuse of needing to rest before the private dinner planned for tonight, Arthur made his apologies to the guests, and made a quick retreat back to his chambers. He’d seen the angry look Merlin had sent his way and it wasn’t boding well for their relationship _._ Merlin was angry for being punished for something he had no control over. But there was nothing Arthur could do, trapped by his desire to satisfy his father.

Arthur moved to the window to look down into the courtyard.  He could see Merlin was still being pelted, with what? Green apples—those would be hard, and the throwers looked somewhat familiar.  It was Lady Alys’ maid and personal secretary.No doubt she had put them up to pitching hard fruit at Merlin. _‘Unwell, my arse.’_   Arthur seethed.  He didn’t think it was possible to dislike Lady Alys anymore than he already did, but now it was hatred.  How dare she attack his Merlin?

Arthur was about to race down to free Merlin from the stocks, when he realised that Merlin was already being released, as the sun had set low enough.  The servant stood and stretched his back and rubbed at his wrists, before heading back into the citadel. 

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	10. Chapter 10

Merlin hesitated before he knocked on the door to Lady Alys’ chamber.  He’d only had time to brush the worst of the rotten fruit off, not for a proper wash-up. He rubbed at the bruise on his forehead from one of the green apples. This request for his help must be part of some game she was playing.He reached out with his magic, but could find no trace of a sorcerer or magic within the chamber.  He knocked and announced, “M’Lady, it is Merlin, here to assist you."

Alys replied with a pleased purr. “Merlin, come in, my boy.”

She was standing by the dining table, and as Merlin came closer, she took the bowl of stew and upended in onto the floor. “Oh my, Merlin, I am so clumsy.”  She then picked up two tomatoes and smashed them forcefully to the floor.  She continued her calculated tantrum by pushing the remains of the meal, plates included, off the end of the table. “Oh, so sorry,” she said without a trace of sorrow in her body.

All Merlin did was stand there, his mouth open, and wondered why she was making a mess. As she poured the mead over the slop on the floor, it became clear when she commanded, “Merlin, you will crawl on the floor and clean up every bit of this mess.”

It took hours to finish cleaning the floor, with Lady Alys tipping over the wash bucket first, and then inspecting his work and finding it unsatisfactory.  She finally seemed satisfied as he washed the floor for about the third time.  Still on his hands and knees, as he finished the last corner, Lady Alys strode up to him and unleashed a vicious kick to his head.

“Take that, you mewling idiot.  See how Arthur likes his pretty boy when he’s been roughed up a bit. Now get out of here.”

Merlin did his best to comply with the last command, pulling himself back to a kneeling position from where he sprawled after the kick.  He was woozy and wobbled as he slowly stood upright.  Another shove from her ladyship and he was out the door, away from her at least.  At the first curtained alcove he encountered, he sank to his knees and closed his eyes, just to rest for a moment.  The moment stretched into minutes and hours.

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After dinner, when Merlin didn’t show up to the prince’s chambers, Arthur began pacing.  Surely Merlin understood that Arthur was put in a position where he could do nothing else.  If he failed to appease Lady Alys, it would further enrage his father. He did not succeed in convincing himself that Merlin understood.  Merlin had shown he was angry.  First about the stocks and then about the chores for Lady Alys. Both times Arthur had chosen compliance with his father over Merlin.  No wonder Merlin no longer wanted anything to do with him.  If Merlin was important to him in their new relationship, he should have confronted his father.  But that was so difficult.  Merlin evidently wasn’t even giving Arthur a chance to explain, since he failed to come to Arthur’s chambers.  Arthur felt the rejection keenly, as if he’d been physically slapped in the face.

Arthur changed into his sleep clothes on his own, and lay down on the bed, doubting he’d sleep much.  Too much weighing on his heart and mind to allow a restful night.  He slept only fitfully, and was still tossing in bed when the sun rose.  But Arthur had made a decision.  Merlin may have rejected him personally, but he wasn’t going to get out of being Arthur’s manservant so easily.  Still in his sleeping clothes, the Prince headed to Merlin’s room in Gaius’ chambers to demand his servant attend to his duties.

“MER-lin!” Arthur bellowed as he burst into Gaius’ chambers, Gaius was up and at the dining table.  The physician replied, “He never came back last night—I thought he was with you all night.”  The eyebrow was raised significantly.  Arthur wasn’t quite sure if the cause was his current state of undress or the thought that he and Merlin had spent the night together.

“No, I never saw him after the stocks.  We’d had an argument, so I thought-” He stopped mid-sentence, not wanted to reveal anything further to Gaius. Perhaps something else was wrong, something drastically wrong with Merlin.

“He didn’t come back here after the stocks either.” Gaius’ tone showed his worry was growing as well. 

“He was to assist Lady Alys with some chores after being released from the stocks by the King’s orders,” Arthur explained.

“Then, you’ll have to enquire of her; but sire, you must get dressed before you approach the Lady Alys’ chambers. For propriety’s sake.”

 

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Fully clothed, Arthur pounded on the Lady Alys’ chambers.  Her maid opened the door, and Arthur could see Lady Alys belting her dressing robe. 

“Sire, it’s early. Are you so eager to see me?” she suggested with a knowing smile.

Arthur cleared his throat and started with “M’Lady. I’m here to enquire after my servant’s whereabouts.  Last known he was sent to you to assist with some chores.”

Her smile deepened. “Arthur, have you lost your boy?  Don’t know where he is?  How amusing.”

Arthur didn’t need to remind himself that he hated Lady Alys. “So it would appear.  Did he assist you last night?”

“Yes, he washed the floor, and he didn’t do a particularly good job.”

“Well, he is not the best servant in Camelot, but you requested him specifically.  When did he leave?”

“Hmm, oh, it was about nine.”

“And you have not seen him since?”

“No m’Lord.”

With that line of questioning an apparent dead end as to Merlin’s current whereabouts, Arthur worriedly returned to Gaius’ chambers.  To his surprise, Merlin, wrapped in a blanket, was sitting at the table. Gaius was serving him some porridge.

“You! What are you doing here?” Arthur barked.

Merlin rubbed his head, and muttered belligerently, “You? I live in these rooms.  What are you doing here?”

“Trying to find out why my servant failed to appear both last night and this morning to attend me.”

“Of course, it is all about Prince Prat not having his every whim addressed.”

“Arthur, Merlin was injured yesterday,” Gaius chided.

Arthur strode forward to the table and gently turned Merlin’s head so he could see the bruise on the forehead and the one on the opposing cheekbone. He spoke softly with a flinty undertone, “What happened?”

“It’s nothing.  Just some hard fruit and Lady Alys working out her frustrations on me.”

Arthur narrowed his eyes, assessing Merlin’s condition.  “Gaius, is he all right?” To Merlin, he added, “The hard fruit was the Lady’s doing as well.”

“I don’t believe he has a concussion, just the bruising and a headache.  I’ll give him some willow bark tea to alleviate the pain.  He should be able to attend you on the hunt, but it would be best if he were mounted and not afoot.”

“The hunt—I’d forgotten that was today. Lady Alys will be at my side. Are you sure you want to come along, Merlin? Of course, you can ride one of the stable horses, if you wish to come.”

“I’m fine, and yes, I can handle Lady Alys if need be, but you’ll be there so I won’t have to, will I?”

 

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Merlin kept close to Arthur as the hunt party rode slowly through the woods.  The dogs and beaters were far ahead, with King Uther and Lord Aden following closely on the track of the boar. Should anything be flushed from the undergrowth, they’d have the best shots with their crossbows. Arthur and Lady Alys were nowhere near enough to attempt shots, so their weapons were stowed on their horses as they rode through the woods.

Unfortunately for Merlin, being close to Arthur meant he was close to Lady Alys as well.  At least she was ignoring him today, other than the glares and scowls she sent his way when she thought Arthur wasn’t watching.

Her attention to Arthur was cloyingly sweet. She praised his riding skills, approved his choice of horseflesh, and admired the carving on his crossbow.  She asked about the tournament that was planned for a few days hence, gushing that surely Arthur would win. Arthur’s behavior, in response, was bordering on rude.  He answered her questions with brusque one-word answers, which failed to encourage any further any conversation until she came up with another question. He wore a sour expression on his face, thinking about the chase for the sow he would not be able to enjoy.

Lady Alys reined in her palfrey to walk directly beside Arthur’s horse. “My prince, pray tell me, will we be able to rest soon?  I am doing my best to keep up with a strong young man like you.  But as a delicate woman, there is only so much I can do.” she cooed.

Arthur squinted at the sun, and replied, “About an hour, at mid-day for luncheon.”  He did pull back on his reins to restrain his mount to an even slower walk to keep pace with her. 

By the time the hour elapsed, they had drifted further away from the hunting party, and thus found themselves quite alone. 

“Well, we might as well have luncheon.  Merlin, get out the food and supplies,” Arthur directed.

Merlin unbuckled the baskets and blankets from his horse and the pack horse..  The blankets were laid upon the soft grass in the clearing, and from the hamper, he prepared the cold meats, cheeses and fruits upon a platter.  Pillows from the other basket were added to the blanket.

Arthur had not abandoned all his chivalrous manners, so he helped Lady Alys off her horse and led her to the picnic. “Oh this is lovely, Arthur.” Settling down on the pillows, she patted a spot close beside her. “Come sit Arthur. Surely even you grow weary from riding.”

Arthur purposely sat opposite Lady Alys with the platter of food in between them.  “A knight is accustomed to riding long distances.  Would you like some of the chicken?” he asked stiffly.

Merlin had quietly retreated a short distance and sat leaning up against a tree trunk. He wasn’t about to move out of ear-shot of Arthur, just in case he needed Merlin’s help. 

If Arthur wasn’t coming to her, Lady Alys could take matters into her own hands—er,  knees.  She shifted around to his side of the blanket, on the pretense of reaching for some grapes.  Looking up at Arthur from under her eyelashes, she pleaded, “Am I not pleasing to you, m’Lord?”

Arthur felt his face flush.  “Why would you say that, m’Lady?”

“You haven’t taken the opportunity to spend time with me. You don’t seem to enjoy my company.  Am I not pretty enough for you?” She was honestly puzzled.  Her allure had always worked before on any man she set her mind to get.

“You are, um, a lovely young lady. Despite my father’s desire to wed me off to the best possible match, I am not ready to contemplate such a serious undertaking yet. In a few years, perhaps.”

“Ah, yes, a young man likes to ‘taste’ the field so-to-speak,” she whispered in Arthur’s ear. With this she thrust herself at Arthur, grabbing his shoulders and kissing him firmly and wetly.  In shock, Arthur did nothing, and she advanced to sitting in his lap, arms around his neck and sucking on his bottom lip.

Arthur was finally galvanized into action. He wrenched her arms from his neck and pushed her away.  “NO. I do not desire you. I do not even LIKE you. You’re cruel and hateful and take advantage of those who are helpless and powerless.  I would never trust the care of the people of Camelot to someone like you as my queen!” Arthur’s was trembling with intensity of his feelings.  As he drew himself upright, his deep blue eyes began to flash gold.

Merlin, having heard Arthur’s shouted ‘NO’, came at a run from around the tree trunk to see a horrible tableau—Alys on the ground nearly sitting in the food plate, Arthur standing a few feet away, shaking with emotion, and Gods, his eyes were gold! Arthur had magic? How could he?

Merlin did the only thing he could—he took a flying leap at Arthur and forcefully tackled him to the ground. Whilst laying atop Arthur, he hissed, “Arthur, stop it! Stop what you are doing! She can’t see you like this!  Your eyes are golden—you are using magic!”

Arthur closed his eyes and heaved out a heavy sigh, letting his head fall back to the ground.

The sound of Alys’ weeping penetrated Merlin’s consciousness.  He got off Arthur, and knelt beside the prince.  “Arthur, are you alright?”

Arthur was still lying on the ground, but was breathing deeply as if to exert control over himself. “Give me a few minutes.”  He knew he had come close to using his magic against Lady Alys, and he had no idea what harm he might have caused.  Thankfully, Merlin had stopped him, but now, Merlin knew...Merlin knew he had magic!  What was he going to do with that knowledge, report Arthur to the King? Surely not?

Merlin approached Lady Alys.  “M’Lady, I think it would be best if we would return directly to the citadel.”  He offered his hand to help her to her feet.  She sniffed loudly and wiped her tears away.demanding, “Fetch my mare, boy.”

“Yes, m’Lady, as soon as I see to the prince and pack up the supplies.”  Arthur was now in a seated position and he was watching Merlin closely, with, thank the Gods, blue eyes, not gold.

 

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	11. Chapter 11

As they dismounted in the courtyard, after a tension-filled ride back from the hunt, Merlin grabbed Arthur’s arm and whispered, “You and I are going to see Gaius immediately.  And you’ll be doing some explaining.” 

Arthur replied petulantly, “You don’t need to man-handle me, I’m coming.”

The two men arrived at Gaius’ chambers, and Merlin started with, “Gaius, we have a problem. Arthur has magic.”

Gaius, dumbfounded, could only squeak, “What?”

“You heard me.  Magic…eyes-turning-gold magic.” Merlin continued.

Arthur toed his boot and hung his head while the other two men stared at him.

Gaius reasonably offered, “We might as well get comfortable while Arthur tells us what is going on.  How about some tea?” He poured out cups as they gathered around the dining table. “So Arthur, tell us how this started.”

“Are you sure you want to know—I’m a dangerous person to know in Camelot now. And I’m not sure what you are going to do about me…”

Gaius shared, “Now Arthur, I’ve known you since you were born, so I’m not likely to panic and turn you in to Uther as a sorcerer.  I was known to dabble in magic long ago, so my own background is suspect as well.”

Merlin sipped his tea, and then said, “Arthur, tell us what’s happened.  You know I’d not do anything to hurt you, and that includes revealing your magic to the King.  That’s the last thing I’d think to do.”

Reassured, Arthur took a deep breath and started explaining the ‘Incidents’ and how these magical powers started after he recovered from the amnesia.  They were driven by his emotions.  No, he didn’t cast any spells, he didn’t know any.  He didn’t think about what would happen, the magic just reacted to his emotions and spilled out of him and did something.  “So what can you tell me, Gaius?  Why is this happening to me?”

Gaius contemplated for a few moments.  “I did wonder, Arthur, if any magic would present itself as you grew up.  But as the years went by and there were no signs, I assumed I was wrong.”

“But why would you think I would have magic? I’m not the child of sorcerers. Or…oh my, you aren’t saying my mother was a sorceress or witch?” Arthur asked with a dumbfounded expression.

“No, no. Ygraine was not magical, nor was she of Druid heritage.  But, Arthur, it was the conditions of your conception that made me think magic might play a role in your life.”

‘Go on.”  Arthur’s mouth was firmly set.

“The sorceress Nimueh served in Uther’s court before you were born.  She was a good friend to your mother.  Uther and Ygraine tried for many years but were unable to have a child.  Uther was desperate to have an heir, so he asked Nimueh for help.”

Gaius continued, “To this day, I do not know if Nimueh tricked Uther or if Uther mis-understood, but I do not believe he knew that the price to be paid for your birth would be the life of an another.  The powers of the Old Religion demand a balance between life and death.  To grant a life where it was not destined requires the giving of a life.  That life was your mother’s.”

Arthur spoke so softly, as if only to himself. “So Morgause’s story had some truth in it.”

“So Arthur,” Gaius spoke gently. “I believe it is because you were born of magic that you now are capable of magic.”

Arthur was shaking his head in disbelief. “But if I was born with this, why has it not come forth until now?”

“Being born **with** magic is very rare. Instead, I think in your case, as your birth resulted from magic, you were born **of** magic, not with it. The impact of the head injury, the amnesia and the treatment must have resulted in your magic becoming active. Your eyes turning gold is a sign of using magic.”

“So what do I do now?”

“You’ve got to keep your emotions in check until you can learn to control your magic.”

“How do I learn to use my magic, to make it do what I want?”

Gaius pondered a moment, his eyes briefly shifting to Merlin.  “I think we can come up with something. I’ll do some reading among the books I have.  For now, do your best to be calm and composed.”

“Right,” Arthur replied with sarcasm.  “That’ll be easy around here.”

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The hunting party returned later that day without the boar.  They’d caught a handful of rabbits and a partridge as poor substitutes.  Dissatisfied, Uther proclaimed at dinner that the hunt would continue tomorrow.

Arthur was elated as he was determined to participate in the actual hunt this time.  He leaned over to Lady Alys, and whispered, “I’m so sorry to hear that you are not feeling well, m’Lady. You must have caught the same illness as your servants.  It’s a pity you won’t be able to join us in the hunt tomorrow.” He finished with a pointed glare to make sure she understood his intent.

She icily replied, “Thank you for your kindness, Sire.  Yes, I must rest in my chambers tomorrow. I beg your leave to retire now.” She rose and dramatically held her hand to her forehead, and spoke to the King and her father.  “I fear I am not feeling well tonight.  Father could you escort me to my chambers?”

“Of course, m’Lady.”  Lord Aden offered his arm, and Lady Alys took it.  Once they were well away from the private dining room, Lady Alys turned to her father, and bitterly snapped, “Father, I’m not sick at all, it is just that Arthur has rejected me.  Sent me away.”

“What?  You aren’t able to convince him of your charms?  You’ve never failed before to enchant a young man.”

“After today’s disastrous picnic, I’m convinced I’ll make no further headway with Arthur. We’ll have to turn our attention to Uther.”  They reached Lady Alys’ chambers, and entered.

Lord Aden reacted with surprise, “Uther? I would have thought he was too old for you.”

“No, I’ll not be wooing him, you imbecile! **You** will be working to get a favorable trade agreement for grain from Uther.  It is at least something we can achieve out of this catastrophe.”

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Merlin was waiting for Arthur when he returned to his chambers after dinner. Arthur acknowledged his presence with a curt, “Merlin.” He sat at his desk in the bedroom, shuffling papers. 

Merlin responded similarly with a brief nod. “Arthur.”  He bent down to poke at the fire, stirring up sparks.  With his back to Arthur, he continued, “I’m sorry I wasn’t here last night or this morning.  I sort of collapsed in an alcove after Lady Alys finished with me.  I didn’t get up until morning, when the servants uncovering the windows found me.”

Arthur’s nostrils flared at the thought of Lady Alys hurting Merlin. “I’m sorry you were hurt, Merlin.  I knew she could be cruel, but for her to be so vicious,” Arthur shook his head, “that I didn’t know.”

Merlin turned and looked up at Arthur from the fireplace, his expression softening as Arthur apologized.

“I…um…really…should have stood up to my father about the stocks and the chores for Lady Alys. I’m sorry, it is just so hard—he is very intimidating.  And he is king, so his orders are law.  When he gives a direct order, I can’t disobey him or it’s treason.”

Merlin replied, “Arthur, I understand.  I don’t want to be the reason for a rift between you and your father. I **am** a servant. I do chores, just usually without a kick to the head.”

“So you aren’t angry with me? That’s what I thought when you didn’t show up last night as we’d planned.”

Merlin smiled his cheeky grin. “No, not angry.  A different emotion all together.”  He approached Arthur, and climbed in his lap so he could access Arthur’s lips with his own. He put his arms around Arthur’s neck and continued snogging.

At a pause for breath, Arthur asked, “What emotion would that be?” then resumed his assault on Merlin’s lips, parting them with his tongue.

At the next pause, Merlin said, “Want. I want you.  Desperately.”

“Well, we’d better move to the bed then.” Arthur stood up from the desk. Merlin kept his arms locked around Arthur’s neck, and then added his long legs by wrapping them around Arthur’s waist.  Arthur carried Merlin over to the bed and sat him on its edge. 

“We’d better get off some of these clothes.” Arthur pulled at Merlin’s red neckerchief, trying unsuccessfully to unknot it.  He just roughly pulled it off over Merlin’s head.

“Oi, careful of the ears!”

“Well, if they weren’t so large…” Arthur retorted. He slipped his hands under Merlin’s tunic, and stroked Merlin’s chest. A hand touched a nipple, and it was already stiff. Merlin gasped. Eager to touch skin as well, Merlin slid his own hands under Arthur’s tunic. 

Arthur was tonguing Merlin’s neck, moving down to the shoulder.  Merlin interrupted him by pulling on Arthur’s tunic. Together they removed Arthur’s tunic and Arthur lifted Merlin’s tunic off so he could access the collarbone where he began sucking. While Arthur was pressing wet kisses to Merlin’s chest, Merlin wasn’t idle.  One hand was stroking through Arthur’s golden hair, and the other lightly rubbing his upper arm.

The sensations leaving him breathless, Merlin huskily asked, “Arthur…what do you want?”

Arthur had to pull away from the nipple he was licking, to reply, “I want to suck you off and make you come with my mouth.”

Merlin moaned with the thought. “Oh Gods, yes, yes.”  He reached down to unfasten his trousers, but Arthur lightly slapped his hands away, admonishing, “Let me do that.”  First he cupped Merlin’s groin, feeling the stiff cock straining at the fabric. He muttered, “All for me.”  Then he pulled the trousers and smalls down, with Merlin lifting his hips to help. 

Biting his lip, Merlin said, “You too, Arthur, Remove all your clothes. Let me see you.” More clothing immediately hit the floor as Arthur obeyed. Merlin’s eyes drank in the sight as the prince sank to his knees and knelt in front of Merlin. 

Arthur moved closer and first kissed the head.  He licked the foreskin, then the slit, and then he took in the entire head.  He mouthed at the crown and liberally licked around the ridge.  Merlin fell back on the bed, overwhelmed from the amazing sensations arising from his cock.  But he needed to see Arthur, so he propped himself up on his elbows.        

Now Arthur ran his tongue on the vein on the underside, then up the length until he reached the root adorned with black curls. Merlin shuddered, and Arthur pulled away with a look of concern, “You all right?”

“Oh yes, don’t stop. But I warn you, I’m not going to last long.” 

Arthur grinned, and just resumed his administrations to Merlin’s cock.  Now he was seriously sucking as he took what length he could.  He added his hand to stimulate the area he couldn’t reach with his mouth. 

Merlin was having his fantasy come to life in front of him.  The image of Arthur’s mouth wrapped around his cock was more fabulous in real life than he’d ever imaged it. Arthur clutched at Merlin’s balls, and could feel they were tightened up, so Merlin was close.  He let his finger stray down to Merlin’s puckered hole, and press for entrance.  That was enough.  Merlin groaned deeply and his cock shot hot come down Arthur’s throat. 

Merlin had collapsed back on the bed, but he lifted himself in time to see Arthur pull off his cock, with come dribbling out of the corner of his mouth. Arthur moved forward to kiss Merlin, and he could taste his own bitter come from Arthur’s mouth.

As Arthur bent over Merlin, Merlin could feel Arthur’s stiff cock pressing against his thigh. Even though he was drained of all energy, he offered, motioning toward Arthur’s red and leaking cock, “Arthur, I could do you...”

“No, not now, I’ll take care of it.” Arthur began stroking himself rapidly with a tight fist. 

As Merlin watched, he had a thought.  “Arthur, come on me, come on my stomach,” Merlin urged. That was enough to send Arthur over the edge as he complied, coming with moans as he painted Merlin’s stomach in white stripes.  He then collapsed onto the bed beside Merlin.

“At least nothing caught fire this time,” Merlin commented lazily.

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The next morning before dawn, after a very satisfying night, Merlin left Arthur’s bed and headed to his own chambers.  When he opened Gaius’ door, he immediately saw he had stayed too long.  Gaius was awake and making breakfast.

“Merlin, good to see you.  I wasn’t sure if I would have to send out a search party to find you.”

Merlin was immediately awash in guilt.  “Sorry Gaius.  I should have let you know I was detained.  Arthur had me in his chambers all night.”  _‘Exactly,’_ Merlin thought.

Gaius merely raised his eyebrow as he took in Merlin’s slightly disheveled appearance.  “You know if Arthur’s going to require your services all night, you might ask him about moving into the servant’s antechamber.  Most personal servants sleep adjacent to their master’s chambers.” Gaius’ expression remained unchanged.

Merlin wondered if Gaius really knew what had changed in his relationship with Arthur. “I’ll speak to him about it. Would I need to give up my room here?”

“No, you can keep it.  It could be handy for you if you need some time alone or for studying your magic book.”  Gaius set two bowls of porridge on the table.  “Come eat.”

“We also need to talk about Arthur’s magic.  He needs to learn to control it.  Do you think you could teach him?”

“Two problems with that.  I really don’t know if I can since so much of my magic is instinctual…hmm, maybe I could teach him some spells to get the feel for it under control.  The second problem is that I’d have to let Arthur know I have magic, that I am magic.”  Merlin’s face was twisted into a concentrating frown as he considered the problems.

“Don’t you think you need to tell him at some point?”  Gaius chided gently.

“Yes, but I don’t know how he’ll react.  I’m thinking he likely won’t have me beheaded or burned on a pyre. But what if he banishes me? I wouldn’t be able to protect him If I had to live in Ealdor.”

“I doubt Arthur would banish you, Merlin.  Particularly since he has magic himself now. What would he do, banish you both?“

“I don’t know—he doesn’t want to cross his father. That much is clear. I just don’t know.”

“WelI, I want you to think on it,” Gaius admonished. “Arthur needs your help to control his magic.”

Merlin mused, “I hadn’t thought of it that way.  I’ll consider it some more.”

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Merlin returned to Arthur’s chamber with breakfast and found the prince still asleep.  Blonde hair askew, and the sheets twisted around his waist. Still clutching the pillow Merlin had slid into his arms as a poor Merlin-substitute when he’d left earlier _.  ‘He is an adorable sight,’_  Merlin thought _. ‘I’d better keep that to myself.  I don’t think Arthur would appreciate being called adorable.’_

“Rise and shine!” Merlin chirped as he opened the curtains, letting in the day’s sunshine.

Arthur moaned and muttered ‘Not yet.’  He buried himself further into the Merlin-pillow. Arthur’s brain engaged and said “Merlin?” as he sat straight up. “You left,” Arthur stated the obvious with a slight pout of his gorgeous lips.

Merlin smiled and nodded his head.  “Yes, I had to see Gaius and get your breakfast.  I’m still your servant, you know.”  He was arranging said breakfast on the dining table.

“And a bad servant at that.”

“Well you haven’t seen fit to fire me recently, so I must be doing something right.”

Arthur padded over to Merlin and wrapped his arms around his lover.  Arthur rested his chin on Merlin’s shoulder.  “Last night was definitely something right.”  He nuzzled Merlin’s ear. Merlin turned around and planted a kiss on Arthur’s stubbled jaw.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish—we don’t have enough time if you are to get to the hunt on time this morning.  I let you sleep in.”

Arthur sighed.  Merlin was right, there wasn’t enough time. “Alright, but we’ll continue tonight.”  He let Merlin loose from his arms and sat at the table, tucking into the breakfast of sausages, cheese and an apple.

“Umm, Gaius told me most personal servants sleep in their masters’ anterooms.  He thought maybe I should move into your anteroom if I was going to be here all night.”

Arthur stopped eating, with the fork mid-way to his mouth. “Does he know about us?”

“I think he is guessing, because I haven’t told him anything.  I just said you had me busy in your chambers all night.”

Arthur grinned.  “Well that was accurate.  If you’re willing to move in, I’d welcome it.  But I want one thing perfectly clear:  you are not sleeping in that bed, you are sleeping with me in my bed.”

“Yes, si-i-re.  That’s one command that won’t be difficult to follow.” Merlin’s cheeky grin made its appearance again.

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	12. Chapter 12

Fortunately for Arthur, Lady Alys well understood his meaning the night before.  She had sent her regrets that she could not participate in the hunt today as she wasn’t feeling well. Arthur’s initial joy in the hunt was dampened by continued lack of prey throughout the morning.  This time, he was looking for signs of their prey well ahead of the rest of the hunting party.  So far, the beaters had not turned up any game other than pheasants and an occasional rabbit. 

Arthur heard the horn sounding the break for luncheon, but he didn’t turn back at once.  He just spotted a track that might be a deer or a boar, he wasn’t sure yet.  He signaled for Merlin to dismount as he did so himself, taking his crossbow with him. 

“Didn’t you hear the horn? We should head back to the clearing where they’re setting up the meal.” Merlin’s stomach growled to accompany his statement, as he tied their horses to the nearby trees.

Arthur, a finger to his lips, whispered, “Yes I heard it, but I’m tracking something. Do your best to be quiet, hard as it is for you.”

After closer study of the footprints in the muddy path, Arthur concluded it was a deer.  He followed the tracks into the underbrush, with Merlin not far behind.

Less than two hundred paces through the broken underbrush, they approached a small brook, and spotted the doe drinking.  Arthur motioned for Merlin to move through the underbrush and get behind the deer to flush it towards Arthur.  Merlin, as always, was useless at interpreting Arthur’s hand motion instructions.  “What?” he whispered as quietly as he could, while wearing an expression of confusion and shrugging his shoulders.

“You idiot! Go ‘round and send the deer my way.” Arthur hissed irritably.

“No need to get all snippy.” Merlin whispered back.

“Sshh” was Arthur’s final word.

Merlin crept slowly through the light underbrush, keeping his eye on the deer while he circled around her.  He was almost in position, when he heard the crashing sounds of a heavy animal charging through the woods. It wasn’t the deer—she had frozen, head up and ears alert, about to bound away to safety. The sound of branches breaking and the thud of the animal running was coming closer.  At first Merlin thought it was charging him, so he was relieved to see the wild boar hurtle by him no more than ten paces away.

His relief vanished in seconds as he realized Arthur was standing upright and drawing his crossbow back to shoot the boar.  “Arthur, get down!” he shouted.

Then Arthur pressed the trigger and the bolt struck home in the sow’s shoulder.  But the boar kept charging—the bolt had no effect.  Arthur’s eyes grew wide as he realized the ineffectiveness of his weapon.  Of course, he should have remembered boars were hunted with spears, not crossbows and bolts. And it often took a handful of men with spears to bring an adult boar down.  He stood no chance, but loaded a second bolt anyway.

He saw Merlin break out of the underbrush across the clearing as the boar was nearly across it, shouting some foreign words.  Then everything stopped. The sow was suspended in mid-stride.  The bolt he just launched quivered in the air, unable to move forward, as if it were straining against a wall.

But the most amazing sight was none of these.  It was Merlin.  He stood in a commanding position, with his hand outstretched towards the boar, palm outwards.  His eyes were flashing golden, not their usual icy blue color.  Merlin knew MAGIC!

That is all that it could mean.  Merlin knew magic and had been lying to him for years. Merlin was an evil sorcerer and was working to overtake Camelot.  Why else would a magic-user live in Camelot and work in the citadel as the Crown Prince’s clumsy personal servant?

While Arthur wasn’t constrained by the magic field that had frozen the boar, he still had not budged from his position shooting the crossbow.  Merlin, still holding the boar motionless, moved toward Arthur.

“Arthur, are you all right?” Merlin asked softly.

The only response Arthur made was to lower the crossbow and pull another bolt from his quiver.  He methodically loaded the bolt in the bow, and raised it to shoot again.

“Wait, Arthur, let me explain before you shoot me, please!”  Merlin cried.

Arthur’s finger poised over the trigger, but did not pull it.  He strode out of the underbrush towards Merlin and the boar, and then loosened the bolt point-blank into the head of the sow. 

“That should do it.” Arthur stated emotionlessly.

Merlin spoke again with foreign words: “Ic þe gebéad gértan ástryrunge,[1]” releasing the spell holding the boar and bolt motionless.  Both fell directly to the ground.  Arthur was right, the boar was now dead and harmless.  However, he couldn’t say the lanky young man with the dark hair and pale face in front of him was harmless as well.

“You.  You know magic. Explain.” Arthur commanded, still fingering the trigger on his unloaded crossbow.

“Yes, I have magic, I was born with it.  I was moving objects around with my mind before I could walk.”

“What on earth are you doing in Camelot?  You know you’d be put to death if anyone knew.”

‘ _Well, at least he hasn’t reloaded another bolt yet,’_ Merlin thought.  “I came to Camelot to learn more about how to control my magic and use it.  Once I got here, I learned I had a destiny to help you, to protect you.  And that is all I have ever used my magic for—to protect you and help Camelot.”

Arthur’s emotionless state broke with a fury of anger. “You—you have lied to me for years!  Pretending to be my bumbling servant while all along you are a sorcerer.”

“No, actually, I really am that clumsy.  And yes, I am your servant.  I serve you in many ways.  Protecting you with magic is one of them; washing out your socks is another.” Arthur didn’t crack a smile at all.

Merlin continued, “Surely you understand I couldn’t tell you about my magic at first—I hardly knew you.  And in Camelot, it is best to hide any magical skills you have.  Didn’t you yourself hide your magical ‘Incidents’ from Gaius and me?  Your instinct was to lie and hide as well, so you can’t blame me for doing the same.”

Arthur sighed, “But for years?”

“Once I was pretty sure you wouldn’t kill me straight off, I still worried you would banish me.  How would I be able to protect you if I didn’t live in Camelot?  And besides I didn’t want to force you into having to lie to your father to protect me.”

“I think this is going to take a bit of time to get used to it.  What else can you do besides stopping charging animals in mid-air?”

“Well, I’m pretty good at dropping branches on the heads of bandits.   All those times you thought I was cowering behind the trees, I was fighting back in my own way.”

“Oh Gods, I don’t think I want to know what else you have helped defeat.”

“All right, I won’t mention the griffin or the dragon then.”

“You mean I didn’t…” Arthur couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence.

Merlin just shook his head.

“You and I clearly need to have a long conversation.  Let’s head back to the horses and get the rest of the party here to deal with gutting the boar and hauling it back to the citadel. Come on.”

Merlin hadn’t budged.  “So I take it you aren’t going to shoot me with the crossbow? Or take my head off with your sword? Or are you going to let your father hang me or burn me on a pyre?”

“Merlin, you idiot, of course not.  Since I have magic too, it wouldn’t make sense to accuse you.  Both of us are just going to carry on as normal and the fact we have magical capabilities is going to be just our secret.” Arthur looked at Merlin who was beaming now.

“I suppose Gaius knows about your magic too?” Arthur asked ruefully.

Merlin nodded.  “Yes, I came to Camelot to live with him and learn more about my magic.”

“Great. Just the three of us know our little secrets.”

`·.¸¸.·´´¯`··._.·β¤ȑñ ¤ƒ ɱåğȋç ·._.··`¯´´·.¸¸.·`

Dinner had gone exceeding well. Uther was pleased with the successful hunt, despite the talk about Arthur’s ‘lucky shot’ killing the boar instantly. In the king’s mind, there was no luck to it--it was purely Arthur’s skill that took down the boar. He also announced that Lord Aden and he had agreed upon a multi-year trade agreement for grain in exchange for access to the Torisian pass and promises of military support. Uther was doubly pleased as he still could marry Arthur off to gain another ally.

Arthur was especially delighted to hear that Lord Aden and Lady Alys would be leaving on the morrow, so this was the final meal he would have to sit beside Alys. Neither one had said a word to each other during the meal, but bowed and murmured to present a good front for all in attendance. 

Merlin was serving, but only for Arthur tonight.  George had been pressed into service to wait upon Lady Alys and Lord Aden. Lord Aden raised an eyebrow at Merlin’s replacement, but said nothing.

Arthur kept a watchful eye on Merlin but could detect nothing out of the ordinary.  No flick of the hand, no strange words, no flashing gold eyes.  Just normal Merlin, being a barely passable servant.

After the meal was consumed and the toasts were drunk to anyone and everyone, Arthur motioned to Merlin to accompany him as he returned to his chambers.

Once inside, the two looked at each other, not sure quite how to transition from their public personas as master and servant into private lovers.

Merlin asked, “Do you need anything further this evening, m’Lord?” He raised his eyebrows suggestively.

Arthur caught on quickly. “Why yes, Merlin, I do believe I do.  I need you to tell me what you want me to do to you tonight.”

Merlin moved close, and grabbed a fistful of Arthur’s shirt. “Indeed.  I want you to fuck me open with your fingers, so I can ride your cock until you come inside me.”

Arthur was breathing heavily and clutched Merlin close, assaulting his mouth with his own, wrapping his strong arms around Merlin’s thin body. “You’re making me crazy with talk like that.”

“That was my intent, you cabbage head.”

Arthur was sucking Merlin’s jaw but broke away long enough to say “Idiot.”

Merlin started pulling on Arthur’s jacket, “Time to get undressed.  Let me help you out of your clothes. That is what your servant is for—to help you, to take care of your needs.”  The jacket came off and was thrown toward a chair.  The tunic missed and hit the floor.

Merlin ran his hands lightly over Arthur’s shoulders and arms, then turned his attention to sucking and biting a mark at the base of Arthur’s neck. Bruised from the slight bite, the area quickly purpled.  “I’m going to have to start wearing a neckerchief to hide that.  Speaking of which, get yours off,” Arthur commanded.

“Yes, sire.  Your command is my wish—or is it the other way ‘round?” Regardless, Merlin unknotted his scarf and added it and his tunic to the other clothes on the floor.  Boots and socks, trousers and smallclothes quickly joined the pile, and at last they were both naked. Merlin was half hard, so he stroked himself to full hardness.  “Over to the bed,” he directed. Arthur moved to the dresser beside the bed, and removed the small bottle of oil from the drawer. 

“How do you want to do this?” Arthur asked.

“I want to see what you’re doing,” Merlin said as he scooted onto the bed, laid on his back and drew his knees up.

Arthur moved between Merlin’s knees and poured some oil on his fingers.  “I’ll start slow.” Arthur just slowly circled Merlin’s puckered hole with his index finger several times, before he gently pressed in just a bit.  He withdrew and circled again.  After repeating this about three times, he pushed harder and his finger was in.  He looked at Merlin’s face which was concentrating on relaxing as much as he could.  There was pain, but also pleasure, and after a minute or two, he nodded, and said, “Go on. More.”

Arthur reached in further and touched a spot that caused Merlin to respond with abandon. “Oh, uh, uh, Arrr-thur!” Merlin shouted.  His hole clutched convulsively on Arthur’s finger.  Arthur withdrew a bit and slid in the second finger.  He pushed inside again, and waited. After a few moments, Merlin nodded.

Arthur scissored his fingers to open Merlin up more. He stroked that special spot again that drove Merlin wild, making him moan and gasp spectacularly. Arthur added the third finger.   Merlin was now lifting his hips to thrust to meet Arthur’s fingers, pushing them deeper. 

Merlin managed to say “We need to change positions, I’m not going to last much longer.”  Arthur withdrew his fingers and Merlin almost whinged at the loss. Arthur shuffled around to lay on his back, his hard leaking cock standing tall. Merlin applied oil to his hand and liberally coated Arthur’s cock. Positioning himself on his knees either side of Arthur, he lined up his hole and sank down onto Arthur’s cock. He felt so full; it was wonderful.  Then he lifted himself a bit and lowered again, establishing a rhythm as he repeated the motions. By now, both Arthur and Merlin moaned and gasped in their passion. 

“So tight, so hot,” Arthur groaned.  Suddenly Arthur felt new sensations, lapping and nipping at his nipples.  But Merlin wasn’t doing it, or was he? “Wha’ is that, Merlin, touching my nipples?”

“Umm, I think it’s my magic. It wants you too.”

“That’s amazing!” Arthur panted.

Another set of hands, phantom hands, began stroking Arthur’s sides. Arthur felt lips sucking fiercely along his jawline.  Another tendril of magic reached out for Arthur, poking gently at his hole.  That was enough for Arthur, and he shuddered and pumped his come into Merlin.  At the same time, the bed lifted and rose up about a foot, wobbling slightly and then just as suddenly dropped back to the floor.

Merlin just need a few more pulls on his own cock to reach the edge and join Arthur.  He collapsed onto Arthur’s chest where he’d just released his seed.

When he could breathe normally again, Arthur asked incredulously, “Wha-what was that?” He waved a hand up to simulate the bed’s motion.

Merlin responded sleepily, “That was your magic, Arthur, not mine.  Your eyes flashed gold while you were coming.  We’ll have to work on getting you to control it.”

“And can I learn how to do the magical touching like you did?

“Mmmm, we can try—I don’t know what you are capable of, Arthur.”  Merlin was already nodding off.

“I think this is going to take practice, a lot of practice,” Arthur smirked to himself, closing his eyes and happily drifting off to sleep.

_Geændung_

(Old English for 'The End')

 

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* * *

[1]                            Rough translation:  I command you to restore motion.


End file.
